Small Worlds
by TheProudSinner
Summary: Dave and Kurt cross paths by accident a year after they've left McKinley. They rekindle their friendship and soon discover they both desire more. Rating for later chapters
1. Old Ties

_**This fic is largely inspired by season 4 rumors that Kurt will be starting out in fashion and gain a new mentor in the business. It is my attempt to imagine how Kurt and Dave might meet up again and how their paths could become intertwined in post-high school Glee. **_

Kurt had been exchanging gossip in a circle with a few other lowly assistants during his break, all the while idly sipping the free champagne, when he spotted the out-of-place yet familiar boy from across the room. David was dressed in a well-cut plain Navy blue suit with a slightly garish mustard yellow tie. Aside from the unfortunate accessory, the boy looked well. Surprisingly well, in fact, and while Kurt was happy to see him happy, he could not help wondering what on earth he might be doing at an event like this.

His first thought was that perhaps he was dating someone who had an invite, but somehow Kurt doubted that a nineteen year-old boy who just moved to New York from Ohio last year would be dating someone with a plus-one invite to New York's Fashion Week. How Dave would have even _met_ someone that high up in fashion circles? It's not like they were his crowd…even if many of them _were_ perhaps his type.

So Kurt remained distant, and watched the other boy's interactions with the people in his company. There were three others standing with him; directly to his left, an upbeat loquacious middle aged man whose suit told Kurt plain as day he was not directly connected with Fashion Week in any way, shape or form. Next to him was a very attractive, very tall swarthy man in his mid twenties, who looked vaguely familiar to Kurt but whom he could not place. He was dressed far better than the middle aged man, with whom he appeared to be quite well acquainted, but Kurt still doubted he was directly connected to the event either. And holding hands with the handsome man was someone who unequivocally belonged – a young woman who was clearly a professional runway model. Her waif figure, hairdo and they way in which she held herself marked her as undoubtedly a walker in one of the shows.

But while Kurt at least managed to souse out the reason the woman and her date were there, he still could not imagine what business the middle-aged man and Dave had here with them. Especially since both men seemed to be interacting primarily with the young boyfriend, not the model. After a few more moments of trying to piece it all together and failing, Kurt decided to make his way over and demand an explanation. (He would have said hello to David no matter what, but his curiosity made him even more anxious to make himself known).

With some unexpected butterflies in his stomach, Kurt took leave of his company and approached his old acquaintance, tapping him congenially on the shoulder to garner his attention. Dave looked over, clearly surprised to be solicited by anyone, and clearly even more surprised when he realized who it was.

"Kurt!" he blurted out, the shock evident in his voice.

Kurt watched as Dave's expression came alight with a plain mixture of confusion, surprise and delight.

"What are you doing here?" Dave asked, not at all accusatorily, but with blatant interest.

Kurt realized their conversation was somewhat rudely interrupting the socializing of the other people present, but he knew there would be time enough for introductions in a moment, so he answered Dave's question.

"I'm here with my employer, Jane Hallowell. She's a fashion designer. What on earth are you doing here?"

Before Dave could answer, the middle aged man in the group interjected smoothly.

"David, would you like to introduce us?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Dave responded flustered, as if he had momentarily forgotten about the others. "Kurt this is Robert Stiegler, Victor Lopez, and Delilah Pane."

Kurt shook hands with each of them as Dave said their names and they each smiled politely back at him.

"Kurt and I went to high school together, back in Ohio," Dave explained to the group. He and Kurt exchanged a meaningful look then, and a subsequent subdued smile. Neither of them would ever forget what happened between them, but the pain of it had long since passed, leaving only a formative kind of bond around what they had endured and overcome together.

"Well, it looks like you two have some catching up to do!" Mr. Robert Stiegler declared. "Why don't you go off and I'll find you in a little while?" he said to David genially.

The man had an affable air about him that made him charming and exceedingly likable, but in a totally inconspicuous way. Kurt's curiosity as to his relationship with David grew considerably.

"Okay, thanks. Talk to you all later," David said politely to the group and he followed Kurt across the room to a secluded spot.

"So who is that?" Kurt asked, desperate for the forthcoming elucidation of Dave's company and presence here.

"Mr. Steigler is my mentor. He's a sports agent. I sometimes go with him to meet clients, if they are in or around New York."

The minute David said "sports agent" the wheels in Kurt's brain began turning. He had not forgotten what Dave had said in the hospital last year, about wanting to become a sports agent himself and by all accounts, it seemed the boy was following through. Good for him.

The disclosure of Mr. Steigler's profession also caused Kurt to realize why the tall handsome man in the group looked familiar to him. He was a baseball player. Kurt could remember seeing the occasional close up of the man's face on his father's big screen TV, sweating in high-def as he prepared to pitch a baseball across a plate at 105 mph.

"And the handsome gentleman is his client, I take it," Kurt filled in, prompting Dave to say more.

"Yeah," Dave said with a chuckle, clearly amused by Kurt's affected pronouncement of 'handsome gentleman.'

"Lopez plays for the LA Dodgers. Got a pretty impressive record, actually. Almost pitched a no-hitter against the Giants last year and averaged-"

Dave stopped as he looked at Kurt's overly amused face.

"What?" Dave asked a bit confrontationally. Kurt smirk got to him a bit, even though the boy was obviously not in mean spirits.

"Nothing, just…you."

"What about me?" Dave replied, nervously, still a bit on edge.

"Nothing. You just seem so…happy," Kurt responded letting his honest surprise show.

If his expression was anything to go by, Dave was taken aback by this response.

"Oh. Well yeah, I guess," he then said shrugging, as his face turned pink and sheepish.

It was so endearingly sweet Kurt had to laugh. He'd already had just enough champagne that day to make him a bit loopy, and, as it happened, a bit more verbose than usual.

"You're so cute," he said out loud, then, before he could stop himself.

A moment that had previously been light-hearted suddenly turned weighty and awkward. At Kurt's words, Dave's slight blush turned a full on beet-red and the boy shuffled his feet nervously, avoiding Kurt's eyes. He then changed the subject quickly.

"So, last I heard you were still in Ohio. How did you end up out here?"

"It's a long, complicated story," Kurt replied as he delicately waved away David's question with his right hand. "Suffice it to say I was 'discovered' by Jane and she offered me a position in her company. The pay is terrible but I'm learning a lot and I get to come to events like this, so all in all, it's a good deal. I love it."

"Yeah, I bet," Dave said, grinning at Kurt's apparent glee. There was no doubt the boy fit right in amongst the throng of high-end fashionistas and it occurred to Dave that it must be nice for someone like Kurt to finally live in a world where he wasn't always the odd man out.

"So, tell me, why is your Mr. Steigler meeting his client here, of all places?"

"Well Victor's only in town for a few days. He came to see his girlfriend walk in the show, and Robert has been trying to get him a meeting with Calvin Klein's people."

"An endorsement deal?" Kurt asked, his professional side kicking in.

"Yup," Dave replied.

"Underwear?" Kurt further probed.

"Well, it's what will get him the most money, and exposure," Dave replied matter-of-factly.

Realizing the pun a second after he said it, Dave met Kurt's eyes and they both cracked up.

"Yeah, I'll say," Kurt concurred after moment, still giggling slightly. "Well he's certainly hot enough."

"Tell me about it," Dave continued, still light-hearted but in a definite undertone.

Since the subject of Dave's attractions had been broached, Kurt took that moment to ask, "So are you seeing anyone?"

Dave then let out a snort that gave the answer plain as day.

"No," he said emphatically, looking down and shuffling his feet again.

"You?" he then asked after a minute. "Still with that guy from back home? Or is there someone else?"

"I…um, well it's…complicated," Kurt responded his discomfort blatantly evident.

Dave knew the correct thing to do would be to leave it alone and change the subject. But with the discovery that the boy was living in the same city as him, and that his relationship status was murky at best, Dave could not help but press the advantage the moment seem to be offering.

"Complicated like there's someone else, or complicated like long distance is hard?"

"Complicated like we had a huge fight over Christmas and we've barely spoken at all since then," Kurt replied.

"Oh, I see. Well, I would try to give you advice at this point but I'm afraid I'm fairly useless when it comes to relationships."

"That's okay. I'm beginning to think I am as well."

At that moment, a waiter arrived and offered a tray of freshly poured champagne flutes. Both Dave and Kurt took one without hesitation.

"To being useless!" Kurt declared dramatically, as he tilted his glass toward Dave.

Dave smiled and instantly clinked their glasses together.

"To being useless," he repeated, downing a healthy sip immediately after.

The equilibrium of the moment restored, Kurt continued with their light-hearted catching up.

"So you seem awfully young to already be meeting clients with a mentor. How did you swing that?"

"Well, you're right. Most of the guys in my program don't start their mentorship till their second or third year. But you could say I got lucky. Mr. Steigler was looking for a new mentee in the fall, but the first event he was attending with a client was the Fall Fashion Week. Pro athletes have a thing for models, and a lot of them come into town to see their girlfriends walking in the shows, or just to mingle. Most of the guys in my program were uncomfortable with the idea of coming to an event like this, so I was the only one who ended up volunteering."

"That's weird. I'd have thought they would have loved to hang out near a bunch of models, too" Kurt replied, unthinking.

"Yeah, but a lot of them don't want to hang out around a bunch of _faeries_," Dave responded, with a meaningful look.

"Oh, I see," Kurt replied, cottoning on. "Well, their loss, your gain."

"Yup. Worked out really well, actually."

"Oh, now I really see," Kurt said teasing after a moment, as if he had stumbled upon Dave's real reason for coming. "You volunteered because you thought it would be a good place to pick up guys."

Dave could not help but laugh at this.

"Yep, that's _totally_ it. You found me out."

They both shared a smile over the idea of Dave using his mentorship as a means to find dates. Although truth be told, the idea had not entirely eluded Dave when he originally volunteered to go during the fall. He knew what he liked, and he knew there would be no shortage of it at such an event. And although he had not been wrong, catching anyone's attention had been another matter entirely.

Dave was not exactly practiced or fluent in the codes and habits of gay male pick-ups. He also was fairly certain that most of the men at events like this took one casual glance at him and immediately passed him off as straight. Which wasn't exactly unwarranted. He knew they were only being efficiently pragmatic. But it was still frustrating sometimes not be given even the chance to indicate interest. Perhaps if he were better dressed he might have more of a shot, but he did not know the first thing about fashion, or style, or what might be more flattering on him.

Almost as if he could hear Dave's thoughts, Kurt then chimed in with a question.

"Although, can I give you some advice?" he asked as he grimaced in mock discomfort.

"What?" Dave replied in kind, raising an eyebrow at the other boy's affected expression.

"Next time, don't wear that tie. It doesn't really match, and mustard is not your color anyways."

"What would you suggest, then, oh wise and all knowing fashion guru?" Dave inquired with exaggerated deference

"A pale pink," Kurt said after a moment, his tone softening to suggest he was being serious once again. "Pink goes well with blue," the boy said with an air of professionalism, as he removed a piece of lint from the front of Dave's suit jacket and smoothed it out. "And it would complement your coloring."

Silence hung in the air and this time it wasn't awkward but weighty with promise; the moment was affectionate and it held the possibility of something more, something much more. It made Dave's heart skip a beat. And it heralded the return of the butterflies in Kurt's stomach.

After a long beat, Dave broke the silence and simply said with quiet sincerity, "Okay. Next time pink, I promise."

His tone said he meant it and Kurt felt something in that moment he had not felt in a very long time – a frank and unmistakable sexual thrill. The words "I promise" whispered in Dave's soft voice shivered down his spine and tingled on his finger tips. And for a brief second Kurt had the mad urge to actually kiss the other boy.

Repressing that feeling he simply smiled and said, "I look forward to it."

That would have been The Moment, the moment for someone to ask someone if they would like to go get a drink or a cup of coffee or go see a movie some time. But unfortunately, before such a turn of events was allowed, Mr. Stiegler came and apologized for having to ferret Dave away. The boys regretfully said goodbye to each other, exchanging phone numbers before Dave was inauspiciously hurried off.

Both were sad they did not have more time to catch up with one another. But both were equally hopeful today was just the beginning of something wonderful on the horizon. They each knew, without a doubt, the exchange of phone numbers had not been a perfunctory nicety and that more was surely to come.

And indeed, not five minutes after they parted, both were aching to make use of the brand new contact number saved in their pockets. But both waited, each too scared of seeming desperate or clingy. So instead they kept their distance and counted the hours before it would appropriate to make contact again.

It felt like a really long wait all around.


	2. New Texts

**This chapter is relative short - apologies - but it was necessary to bridge to my next chapter, which will be a lot longer.** **Should be updating again soon, within the week. Until then! (And btw, thank you for the lovely reviews! They are appreciated.)  
**

It was Kurt who texted first, and Dave was immensely grateful for that. He would have done it himself eventually, if Kurt had made no move, but given their history with one another, it felt more appropriate to let the other boy make the initial contact. Mercifully, he had, only a day after their truncated reunion.

They had had their brief encounter Monday afternoon during one of the Fashion Week events at which they both happened to be working, though in very different capacities. Dave had Tuesday off but Kurt predictably was still hustling about with his employer Jane. However, he managed to take time out of his schedule just after lunch to type Dave a short message.

_**Hey. Was good to see u yesterday. Hope we can get together again sometime. Lots of catching up still to do! :)**_

Dave was uncharacteristically away from his phone when it first received Kurt's message. Like a 13 year-old girl, he had been carrying it around with him almost non-stop since he had given Kurt his number yesterday. But he decided that taking it into the bathroom with him while he showered was a bit much, and so he was not immediately aware when Kurt first made contact.

Returning to his dorm room from the showers at the end of his hall, Dave roughly dried off his wet hair with a towel as he picked up his phone to see if anyone – meaning Kurt – had made use of his number while he was bathing. The smile that spread across his face when he saw the New Text graphic containing Kurt's name was made of pure joy.

Dave instantly sat down at his desk and read the short, friendly text. It was everything he could have hoped for under the circumstances: a confirmation that the meeting yesterday was nice and an offer to get together again. Dave quickly pressed 'Reply' and began agonizing over his message. Finally he managed to compose one that seemed right in tone and content.

_Was good seeing u too. Would also like to hang out again. U are right, lots to catch up on. Think it would be nice. _

Dave sent the text and forced himself to put the phone down while he dried off and got dressed. He had strongly debated asking Kurt when he might be free to meet up again but decided against it. He'd let Kurt be the one to ask for a concrete plan.

His correspondent was clearly not by his phone or was busy when Dave sent the text because it took the boy about a half an hour to respond. Dave had just about forgotten about it, becoming absorbed in a series of recommended YouTube cat videos when he jumped slightly at the whimsical series of beeps that composed his text-alert noise. Laughing at himself, Dave picked up the phone and anxiously read Kurt's second text of the day.

_**Sounds fun to me too, but honestly don't know when I might be free next. Totally booked during fashion week & for most of week after. Busiest time of year for us! :( Sorry… But def. do want to see u at some point.**_

Dave's heart sunk a little when he realized he would likely not be seeing Kurt again for the next two weeks or so, though he did feel confident Kurt was telling the truth about being busy. It made perfect sense that Kurt would be working overtime this week and next. Dave imagined Fashion Week must be for designers what NFL draft week is for sports agents. In which case, Dave was grateful Kurt was even bothering to text him at all.

_No worries. Just lemme know when u are free. I don't wanna bother u. _

This time, a return text came back almost instantly.

_**Trust me, u are not a bother. ;) **_

Even though the text had all of 25 characters in it, everything about it warmed Dave's heart, especially the winking smiley face. If Dave didn't know better he'd have thought Kurt was flirting with him. The conversation suddenly made Dave feel giddy and anxious in a good way. And totally impatient for this two weeks to be over.

Realizing he needed to compose a reply, Dave considered for a long while. Eventually he managed a sufficient response.

_Good to know. ;) But seriously, if u are really busy, don't feel bad ignoring me. Is okay. _

Five minute wait until: _**I'm def. busy, but I don't wanna ignore u. You make a good distraction. :)  
**_

Dave understood that he was being complemented and he smiled yet again, feeling his face redden. Luckily that time, no one was around to see it. Before he was able to compose a response, however, he received another text from Kurt.

_**Gonna be busy for next few hours but will text later. **_

_Cool. Later then! Work hard.:)_

Dave wasn't usually in the habit of including smiley faces in his texts, but Kurt's consistent habit of doing it was apparently infectious.

_**I always do.**_

Dave was actually kind of glad that Kurt signed off with him, because he did in fact have some school work to get done before tomorrow. But for the next few minutes he simply sat in his desk chair and reread their conversation over and over again. It did not lose anything for the repetition.


	3. Pride

_**I have apologize for another quasi "filler" chapter. This was originally going to be the beginning of a much longer chapter but I decided to divide it up instead. Sorry, should have planned better. But, actual major plot development in the next one, I promise.** _

The boys continued to exchange texts over the next week and a half. It was often only a couple of back-and-forths at a time, mostly because of Kurt's schedule, but they kept up a continuous rhythm. It was primarily small talk, friendly banter and casual complaints about their jobs or school. If something really funny or ridiculous happened, they would always feel the need to text the other and tell them about it. Dave got a particular kick out of Kurt's story about an older photographer trying to chat-up one of the models while he had a piece of toilet paper sticking out the back of his pants.

And no matter what, Kurt always texted Dave to say good night. It had gotten to the point where Dave literally could not sleep until he got his good-night text from Kurt and sent one in return.

Dave wondered if Kurt did this type of thing with lots of other people. The boy struck him as being something of a social butterfly, at least in his own circles, and Dave could imagine Kurt keeping up a constant chat with many of them at any given time. But then again, maybe he really _was_ special. Who knew? It was certainly not something Dave was going to ask about; he was aware it would make him look either jealous or needy for special attention, neither of which would be attractive.

So Dave simply kept his responses to Kurt casual and unassuming. He did not want to inject more intimacy into their conversation than was intended or desired.

Then, on Thursday afternoon, about a week and half after they first reconnected, Dave finally got the text from Kurt he had been waiting for.

_**So after tomorrow I will finally have some time off. Any chance u are free to hang out soon?**_

Dave's stomach did a summersault. He had gotten used to communicating with Kurt via text (though truth be told, he still got a little surge of excitement every time he heard his text alert). But the offer of an actual date to hang out, that was _really_ exciting.

Not wanting to seem too desperate, but also not wanting to put it off, Dave decided to tell Kurt he had the weekend available.

_Well, I'm free this weekend. But I understand if u need to crash for few days. No rush._

Dave hoped his "no rush," came off as casual as he wanted it to sound. He hated the idea that his eagerness might be seeping through in spite of himself.

At first Kurt was glad Dave suggested the weekend. Over the last ten days, whenever he had a free moment, all Kurt had thought about was being able to see the boy again, really catch up with him, talk to him in person. But he did not want to appear too anxious, especially since he still did not know what exactly it was he even wanted from the other boy…or what the other boy wanted from him.

But he did know one thing –he definitely wanted to find out.

Dave's offer was casual, and likely deliberately so. Or maybe Kurt just flattered himself, maybe Dave really was in "no rush." Kurt wondered if he should pretend to be as cool as Dave was playing it, or if he should just be honest. Everything in him was aching to be honest, but at the last minute, his pride got in the way.

_**Yeah, probably should crash this weekend. How does next Sat. sound?**_

The minute Kurt sent the text he regretted it. He should have just agreed to this weekend and pride be damned. But it was too late now. If he took it back he'd look like a desperate sap, and that thought made him squirm.

Dave was undeniably disappointed by Kurt's text, but not at all surprised. From the distant sounds of things, the boy had been working basically non-stop for the last few weeks, and he deserved some time alone to just veg. Dave doubted it said anything about Kurt's desire to spend time with him. All it said was that Kurt was human and needed rest. It was still a bit disappointing though.

Hitting the Reply button, Dave typed out his subsequent, seemingly affable agreement.

_Next Sat. sounds great. Got anything in mind?_

As Kurt read his return text, he felt his heart sink. He was going to have to wait another whole week and some to see Dave again, and for no other reason than his stupid pride, his idiotic need to seem cool and uneager. God he regretted that! But it really was too late to backtrack now. So instead of fessing up to what he really wanted, Kurt simply proceeded with making a plan.

_**How does coffee sound?**_

It was as good a suggestion as any, Dave conceded…well, short of an offer to make out on Kurt's couch anyway.

_Sounds great. I'll come to u. I like Manhattan more than Brooklyn. _

Kurt was grateful for this at least. He did not have a car, and he was not a fan of New York public transport. Most of the time he was able to walk to the places he needed to go and on the rare occasion he had to travel a significant distance for work, he was typically given cab fare. He conceded this made him a bit spoiled, but he felt no need to subject himself to the potential horrors of the metro transit system if he did not absolutely have to.

_**Cool. Sounds like a plan. :-)**_

At first Dave was just going to let it be, but on impulse he sent back a short, 3 character reply.

;-)

It spoke volumes to Kurt, who began to feel as if, in spite of all their talk of being 'friends' and just 'catching-up,' this really was a date, and the significance of it was simply being conveniently masked by those other, less weighty words.

The thought that Dave was under the impression this get-together was a date _should _have made Kurt uncomfortable. After all, as they both knew quite well, he technically still had a boyfriend…if only according to Facebook. But in reality, all that thought made him feel was a bubbly exhilaration.

Although he hated to admit it, as much as Kurt had told himself this was just about being friends, and hanging out and catching up, he was aware that the possibility of something more romantic and erotic blossoming between the two of them had hung heavy over the light-hearted text banter, and the nonchalant plan-making he and Dave had engaged in over the past two weeks or so.

And while Fashion Week and its direct aftermath had rather conveniently left him way too busy to worry himself over the nebulous vectors of his love life, now that that distraction was alleviated, Kurt knew he could not put off _The Conversation_ any longer.

It was finally time to grow-up and give his 'boyfriend' a call.


	4. Gifts

"Hey Kurt, Jane wants to see you in her office."

Kurt looked up from the vest he was pinning and nodded at his coworker.

"Thanks Amanda, I'll be there in a minute."

Not wanting to disrupt the flow of his concentration, Kurt continued to scrunch and smooth fabric until he felt satisfied. He then set down his pin cushion to speak with his boss. Walking towards her office, Kurt felt unconcerned. Their workplace was professional and diligent, but also casual and fairly egalitarian. Egos did not run amok, which made it a pleasant place to be employed, in spite of the long grueling hours. It also meant that junior employees did not live on a layer of thin ice, as they so often did in other, similar circumstances. Kurt worked hard and he did his job well. He thus knew he had nothing to fear by making his boss wait a few minutes for him. The woman did not exactly have the most keen sense of time at any rate.

Opening the large, translucent glass door to Jane's office, Kurt poked his head in and waited for her to wave him inside before he entered the room fully.

"Kurt, come on in, I'm just finishing up these sketches for the investor's meeting tomorrow," Jane said, as she gestured for him to have a seat across from her desk.

Kurt took the seat and waited while his mentor added a few finishing touches to one of her new designs. As with most people in the creative side of the industry, she was definitely a bit eccentric and often insisted on finishing her work whenever and where ever inspiration struck her. Kurt was used to waiting through Jane's bouts of creativity and he knew she would not keep him waiting too long, if only because they rarely lasted all that long.

A few more strokes of her colored pencils, and suddenly, Jane tossed her sketchbook unceremoniously aside and gave him her full attention. It was quite intense.

"Kurt, I wanted to ask you, how do you like it here? Do you enjoy working at my company?"

Kurt was taken aback by the question. He was expecting a request to stay late to finish up the vests, or to come in early to help set up tomorrow's show for the investors.

"Um, yes, I love it. I've learned so much and it really is a great honor to be able to work with so many amazing people."

"Oh, sweetie, you are such a doll. And how do you like New York? I know it's a big transition from Ohio. How are you handling it?"

Once again, Kurt was surprised by this probing into the state of his personal life. Why was his boss suddenly so interested in his general well-being? Not that he minded, exactly, he just didn't understand why she was troubling herself with such information.

"Well, I miss my family, for sure, but one of my best friends lives here, and she and I keep each other company. Plus, I love being able to go to Broadway shows, even if I am only able to sit in the cheap seats."

"Honestly I'm amazed you find time to go to the theater, given how hard you work here."

Kurt shrugged modestly at this acknowledgment of his work ethic.

"I manage," he replied, smiling.

"I'm glad. I worry that this job is becoming your life." She paused and gave Kurt an uncharacteristically serious look.

"Listen, Kurt. I think you are a smart, interesting, energetic, funny, talented young man. And you seem to spend all your nights here bent over a mannequin. Believe me, I _love_ the commitment, I really do. But one thing I've learned working in this business, is that people who have the potential for greatness rarely reach it when they burn out before the age of twenty-five."

All of a sudden this conversation was feeling much more serious and significant.

"I've worked with a lot of young people in this industry. Many of them smart and talented and good at what they do. But few of them have that…_spark_; that touch of genius. Few of them have _true vision_. You are one of the few who do. You have true vision. You have the potential for greatness. A potential you will never reach if you work yourself into the ground before you are old enough to legally drink."

Kurt was looking at his boss and mentor with wide, captivated eyes. He was immensely flattered by the complement she had paid him in calling him a visionary. But he frankly was at a loss as to how to react, given he sensed he was also being asked to scale back his work.

"So I'm going to ask you to try to do two things for me. First, learn how to leave work when it's time. As I said, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your always going above and beyond in these past few months. But you need space in your life for a life, or you'll never be left with enough energy to come into your own. And I really want that for you."

Jane paused and smiled very sincerely at Kurt. And although the request honestly made him feel a little panicked, loaded as it was with high expectations, he forced himself into a smile of genuine gratitude.

"Thank you Jane. I'll try."

"Good. Good. The other thing is really more of a suggestion than an outright request. I want you to start noticing what inspires you, what makes you feel creative, what gives you vision. Everyone has something. For some people it's 90s techno music, for others it's Monet paintings, for others it's black coffee and a blank journal at an obscure little coffee shop. For some people it's sex, for others it's love, for others it's just a really good home-cooked meal. For some people, it's driving in fast cars or jumping out of airplanes. For some it's just a bottle of red wine. Figure out what it is _you_ need to make your art. You have something special in you Kurt, and honestly, I'm dying to see it. I think the rest of the world is too, by the way. Most of them just don't know it yet. Will you promise me?"

Kurt was overwhelmed by this declaration. It was simultaneously immensely flattering, and a great deal of pressure to suddenly be operating under. But he tried his best to take it all in stride, attempting to be merely grateful that Jane felt he had the potential she apparently thought he did.

"I promise."

"Good! Now, here, I have a present for you. A bit of a thank-you for your indispensable work at Fashion Week and a push to help you get started with that whole having a life, finding inspiration thing."

From across her desk Jane held out a stiff folded envelop, with raised gold lettering. Kurt leaned toward her to grasp at the proffered gift only to glimpse the simple elegant logo on the front. His eyes grew wide involuntarily.

"Aphrodisia?" Kurt blurted out in shock as he stared at the voucher in his hand. Aphrodisia was one of New York City's most expensive and exclusive restaurants. Only very rich and/or very influential people ever ate there. And even they often had to wait months for a reservation. How Jane even came by such a thing was a question of no small significance, let alone why she was giving it up to him

Normally Kurt would have just accepted a gift from his boss with good grace, but he felt something this extravagant had to be at least minimally protested.

"Jane, I really can't. How did you even-"

"Oh, don't worry your gorgeous little head. It was a gift from some high up Wall Street investment wanker whose spoiled daughter is looking to get an exclusive design by me for her Sweet Sixteen Party. I told him it was never going to happen, but he insisted. So I'm just passing the generosity along."

"Thank you Jane, this is really amazing. I have no idea what I'm going to wear but…"

"You'll figure it out. Now, the reservation is for eight o'clock this Friday night and it's for two. So bring someone special with you." She paused for the briefest of moments before adding, "Maybe that person you've been texting non-stop for the past two weeks."

In spite of himself, Kurt gave her what he knew was a slightly guilty expression. He had been trying to keep his communiqués with Dave a bit more on the down-low, since he technically should not have been socializing so much during work. But he often could not help it. When Dave's sound-specific text alert rang in his pocket, his need to respond was simply overwhelming. His whole world had come to revolve around that noise. Apparently he had not hidden that fact as well as he would have liked.

"Oh don't be embarrassed sweetie, it's okay. It was nice, actually, to see you stealing time for yourself. I don't think I've seen you smile that much in all the time I've known you."

Kurt could feel his face reddening as he looked away, discomfited. He knew he wasn't being scolded for his text dalliance, which in some ways made him feel even more bashful about the whole thing.

"_That's_ the person you should take on Friday, if you can. Anyone who puts an expression like that on your face is worth every cent Mr. Wanker Banker spent."

Kurt met Jane's eyes and saw the obvious twinkle there. The woman clearly observed a lot more than he had given her credit for previously. She may have been flighty and a bit off the wall at times, but she certainly could see what mattered. Kurt would never underestimate her insight again.

"Thank you, Jane. I will."

His mentor then gave an emphatic, satisfied nod and without any further ado, picked up her sketchbook once more. Kurt knew that was his cue to leave. Rising from the chair he gripped the gift card tight in his hand and waited until he was totally outside Jane's office before anxiously retrieving his phone from his pocket.

He reopened his latest conversation with Dave and began typing a fresh reply when, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a piece of fabric draped across the work table of one of his colleagues. It was a slightly paler than bubble gum pink, embroidered with a delicately subtle cross-hatch diamond pattern made from gold thread. Walking over to it, Kurt ran his hand once over the beautiful cloth and knew almost instantly that it was perfect. He picked up the unused bolt of fabric, which his colleague had left leaning against their work desk and brought it over to his, measuring out a healthy swath of material and making a clean, decisive cut.

Jane had told him to start paying attention to what inspired him, and there was no doubt the idea of seeing David wearing an original Kurt Hummel creation inspired him. Kurt folded up the fabric gently, and placed it in his bag, deciding that the vest he had been working on previously could wait until the morning, that it was time to go home. After all, he had some work of his own to do.


	5. New Ties

It was Wednesday and Dave was at the Student's Center having lunch when he got the email.

**"Dear Student,**

**A package for you has been delivered to the campus mailroom that is too large for your regular mail box. Please feel free to pick it up at the mailroom desk between 12pm and 4pm."**

Dave's eyebrows knitted over the message, which he read twice in quick succession on his iPhone. He was certainly not expecting a package of any kind, which made its presence quite confounding.

With his curiosity piqued, Dave quickly finished eating the last of his fries and then hastily packed up his belongings. The mailroom was quite a ways away from the Student Center, and Dave wanted to retrieve his mysterious parcel before he had to get to his next class. He knew he would not be able to pay attention to his biology lab with the thought of an unexpected gift hanging over his head.

When he reached the door to the building that housed the mailroom, Dave had to halt his manic pace while he waited for the old automatic door to slowly inch open. As soon as there was enough space, he turned himself sideways to squeeze through; he was in a hurry, after all. He then immediately spotted the window where students lined up to retrieve larger packages. With two students ahead of him Dave took up his place in line and pulled out his student ID in preparation.

The girl behind the counter appeared to be in no hurry, and her lackadaisical manner as she served the pair of people in front of Dave was making him quietly crazy. He never had possessed an overabundance of patience.

Finally it was his turn and he handed over his student ID. The girl looked at his name and then turned around to rifle idly through a group of packages arranged along a long counter behind her. Finally her hands stopped on a relatively small box that was long and flat and covered completely in plain brown paper. She picked it up, rechecked the name, and handed it over to him. Dave managed a brusque "Thanks," and then turned to head out the way he had come.

Exiting the building, Dave spotted a vacant bench a little ways along the sidewalk and hurried over to it, anxious to discover what had come for him, and from whom. He sat down, and with one quick glance at the front knew it had not come from any of his relatives. There was no return address and no postage, which meant the parcel had been delivered by hand. As such, it could only be from someone he knew in New York, and that list was very small indeed.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Dave succumbed fully to the urge to rip the paper off the thin rectangular package. Underneath it he found a plain dark navy blue gift-box. He lifted the lid, and immediately saw two things: a small white card lying on top of a neatly folded pale pink tie. And before he even opened the card, he knew instantly exactly who was responsible for this.

The smile that spread across Dave's face in that moment, when he realized Kurt had gone this far out of his way to give him such a thoughtful gift, was uncontainable. He felt a gleeful surge of adrenaline pump through him as he opened the card with slightly shaking hands. The message inside was scrawled in a slightly messy cursive.

"_Slight change of plans. Instead of coffee Saturday, come to dinner with me on Friday night? It'll be my treat…and by my treat, I mean Jane's. (Tell you all about it when I see you) There's a business card with the name and place of the restaurant underneath the tie. Reservation is at 7 o'clock. Don't be late. _

_P.S. And don't forget to wear the tie!"_

A surge of happiness so profound it was almost painful rushed through David. He honestly could not remember the last time he felt this ecstatic, or was looking forward to something this much.

Setting the card down on his lap, Dave took the tie out of its box and examined it more fully. The pink accessory was made of a satiny kind of material which was embroidered with a fine gold thread forming a lattice check pattern. The item felt formal, serious and delicate…and refined. Turning it over, he looked at the designer insignia sewn into the strip of fabric on the back. It was not a label or designer he recognized, not that that meant much, but Dave could easily tell the item was not a run-of-the-mill $25 piece that could be found in Sears. Dave was not seasoned enough in fashion to estimate the probable retail cost, but he knew enough to know the worth had to be substantive. He could only imagine Kurt came by such an item through his connections in the fashion industry. Because there was simply no way, at his current salary level, the boy would have been able to simply buy something like this for him off the rack.

Trying to keep the tie correctly folded, Dave picked up the aforementioned business card still lying at the bottom of the box, and placed the tie carefully back into it. After replacing the lid to keep his gift protected, Dave flipped over the business card in his hand and read the name of the venue written in bronze ink.

**APHRODESIA**

It gave an address in what he knew was a very swanky area of Manhattan; everything about the design of the card also suggested the restaurant was trendy and edgy, but simultaneously very high-end.

Dave desperately wanted to text Kurt right then and there to ask him what on earth had inspired this unwarranted fit of generosity. But with his biology lab beginning in about five minutes across campus, he knew he did not have the time. He would have to wait until class was over to ask Kurt the 83 questions now bouncing furiously around his brain.

Picking up Kurt's card, and the restaurant business card, Dave tucked them both safely into his wallet before standing up and making a hasty beeline for the science building, the tie box still gripped with iron firmness in his right hand.

*8*8*

When Dave emerged from biology almost two hours later, the first thing he did as he exited the class was turn his phone back on. It took the device a moment to update – the science building ironically had the worst reception on campus – but when it finally did, Dave saw a new text from Kurt. It contained exactly four words.

**_Did you get it?_**

Dave smiled. He could easily imagine Kurt being glued to his phone the minute he dropped off the box, waiting with baited breath for his response to the gift. He felt a bit bad for making the boy wait; he knew it would have been agony for him. But it also pleased him that Kurt was so terribly eager.

Dave's first instinct was to respond immediately. But he decided to wait until he was back in his dorm apartment before he began what he knew would be a long string of exchanges. It was an uncharacteristically brisk walk for him.

Finally Dave arrived back in his room and took up a relaxed position on his bed, ready to chat properly with Kurt. He had been debating how he wanted to play it, excited and grateful, or detached and snarky. He had finally decided on the latter…at first.

_Yeah, I got it. And lucky for u, I don't have plans this Fri. night. So I guess I can do u the favor of gracing u with my presence. _

Dave had to wait a few minutes but soon enough his phone was trilling at him.

**_Geez, don't sound too excited! :P_**

By this time Dave was confident enough in his friendship with Kurt that he did not worry about his feigned aloofness being misunderstood.

_Well, I can't just descend into an undignified display of emotion, now can I?_

**_And why the hell not?!_**

_Well I do have an image to maintain. _

**_For who? We're the only ones talking._**

_Touché. Well if u insist…_

**_I DO! And btw, fuck u 4 being such a tease!_**

_I thought u couldn't fuck someone who was a tease…_

Dave knew he was really going to get in trouble for that one, but the set-up was just too good to resist.

**_GRRRRR! I HATE YOU RIGHT NOW!_**

_I know. ;-)_

**_Fuck you…_**

Dave could tell the time for teasing was over and so he finally composed the text he had been planning since he first opened his gift box.

_Seriously, the tie is perfect. Thank u. I love it. And I can't wait for Fri. night. _

The moment he received this message, Kurt felt all the knotted frustration in his stomach dissolve to be replaced by a sweet ache in his chest region. He knew Dave had only been messing with him before, but he still needed reassurance that his gift had been well-received. Despite his often superior attitude, Kurt still often suffered from a great deal of insecurity. And he had put a lot of work into Dave's gift; he had needed to know Dave understood that. Apparently he did.

**_Thanks. Glad u like it. I can't wait either. :-)_**

_Really, I do. _

Now Kurt was feeling downright fuzzy.

**_That makes me happy._**

It was Dave's turn, then.

_I'm happy it makes u happy that I'm happy._

**_Okay, I think maybe we should stop now._**

_Agreed. _

A slightly awkward text pause followed. Although they had become quite close through their constant back-and-forth, they had kept their exchanges casual on the surface. So much open discussion of genuine feelings was not characteristic of their relationship thus far. Desperate not to let the pause drag out too long, Dave decided ask the question that had first occurred to him when he opened his gift.

_So what inspired this gift?_

Kurt thought about attempting an explanation over the phone, but decided it was probably best to wait until he could talk to Dave in person. Plus, by this point, he was trying to make sure they still had plenty of stuff to talk about during their 'date.'

_**Long story. Tell u when I see u.** _

_Fair enough. So how was your day?_


	6. The Scarf

Dave felt a bit ridiculous riding the New York subway in his best suit. Not that people didn't do it, but it felt incredibly incongruous to him nonetheless as he sat hunched over in his seat, picking at his finger nails. He was incredibly nervous. He knew this was not a date, at least not explicitly. But an air of possibility definitely lingered over it, and Dave could tell the prospect of it evolving was not entirely out of the question. He was not foolish to hope, which only made him more nervous.

He had never actually been on a real date before, but from what he had seen in the movies, his behavior in the last few days certainly matched up with first date jitters. He had looked up the menu at the restaurant to decide in advance what he would be ordering. He knew places like that often had nearly indecipherable menus and he had not wanted to get caught off guard, accidentally ordering liver or squid or something.

He had also made a mental list of topics of conversation, in case there was an unexpected awkward lull in the conversation. Luckily, he and Kurt chatted so frequently, they actually knew quite a bit about each other's lives, and so there was no shortage of questions Dave could pose to get the ball rolling again. Finding things to talk about was actually relatively low on his worry list.

Much higher on it was actually the box that was balancing on his lap. In it was a gift for Kurt, which he had purchased on something of a whim the day before. Most days, Dave had to stay on campus for lunch as he had a pretty tight class schedule. But on Thursdays he actually had time enough between classes to go out into the world. A couple of months ago he had discovered this amazing little deli about five blocks from campus that made the best sandwiches, and he often walked there to get himself a treat and give himself a break from cafeteria food.

The area around it was very hip and there were lots of independent cafes and bookstores, funky secondhand clothes shops and boutiques. It had occurred to Dave Wednesday night that perhaps he should get Kurt a gift as thanks for the tie and for taking him to dinner at such a fancy restaurant. But at the time, he had had no idea what the boy might possibly want.

But as he had made his way to Sami's Delicatessen the next day, he passed one of the familiar little store windows nearby only to glimpse a stunning array of scarves hung artistically in the storefront display. Dave had paused for only a second, remembering Kurt's penchant for scarves while they were in high school, before making his way decisively inside.

A bell chimed softly as he pushed the door open, and a man who had been tidying up a rack of vests turned toward him.

"May I help you?" the man asked politely but a bit stiffly as he walked toward Dave.

Everything about his voice and physical manner, not to mention his clothes, suggested strongly to Dave that they had roughly the same taste in sexual partners, if nothing else.

"Um, yeah," Dave replied nervously. Ostentatiously gay men still made him a little nervous, and while he was trying to get over that feeling, the old habitual anxiety still managed to resurrect itself within him from time to time.

"I'm, ah, looking for a gift for a friend of mine. I want to get him a scarf…he likes scarves."

Dave could feel his face reddening as he blabbered like an idiot. However, he was heartened by the way the retail clerk seemed to melt at his confession that he was looking for a gift for another boy.

He smiled warmly at Dave and exclaimed enthusiastically, "Well, aren't you a little sweetie pie? Let's see what we can find for your _friend_…"

The man then began wondering through the store briskly picking up scarves it seemed somewhat at random from different displays and collecting them in his hand. Dave followed him sheepishly, not knowing if he should shadow the man, or stay out of his way. He was not exactly fluent in the protocol of shopping at places like this.

Finally the man seemed to have a satisfactory bundle of options and he waved Dave over to the glass checkout counter where he laid them out side-by-side for Dave to peruse. There were an amazing array of colors and fabrics, sizes and accents. Dave hardly knew were to begin.

"Now, I don't suppose you know this boys color preferences, or perhaps any designers he likes."

"Afraid not," Dave replied, feeling rather useless.

"That's okay sweetie. Do you at least have a picture of him?"

On that font, at least, Dave could be helpful. He pulled out his iPhone and showed him Kurt's Facebook picture.

"He is adorable," the man gushed. "Aren't you a lucky duck?"

"Yeah," Dave responded bashfully.

"Ugh, you are just too cute for words! Okay, so we need to help you pick out a scarf to impress this boy."

The store clerk seemed to feel it was his mission to help Dave get Kurt to like him, and he appeared to be dedicating himself to this task with unbridled vigor. Some of the options he immediately discarded, claiming they were wrong for Kurt's coloring. Others he showed to Dave and asked him to say "no" or "maybe" to. At first Dave felt unsure about offering his opinion, but the store clerk told him to go with his gut and soon enough they developed a rhythm for whittling down the options.

Then, suddenly, all of their sorting became superfluous, for the man held up a white cotton number with the most amazing embroidered detail in each corner – a pirate ship complete with tiny little scull-and-cross bones flags – and Dave knew they had found the one.

"This one," he said to the store clerk with absolute conviction.

"Good choice," the man replied, smiling at him.

Dave held onto the item, while the retail assistant cleared away the piles of scarves that had not made the cut. Dave quickly glanced at the price tag and was relieved to see that, although it was a bit expensive, it was still within his price range at $38.00.

The sales assistant rang him up and while his check card was processing, he folded the scarf delicately in turquoise tissue paper and placed it in a white gift box along with one of their business cards. The transaction went through and the store clerk completed the sale, stapling his receipts together and placing them in a small brown paper bag along with the gift box.

"Well, sweetie, you have a great day and I hope this works out for you."

"Thanks. I think it will. Um, I really appreciate your help, by the way," Dave added, as he backed up slowly towards the door.

"You are such a doll. If that boy doesn't climb you like a tree, he's both blind and dumb."

Dave felt his face grow hot, and he laughed nervously, but the complement was appreciated nonetheless.

"Thanks again."

"You're welcome."

Dave had left the store flustered but satisfied. However, seated on the subway with his stop rapidly approaching, second thoughts began creeping into his mind. What if he had chosen wrong? What if Kurt hated it? What if the gift was too much and Kurt took it the wrong way?

Granted, Dave was not exactly sure what the 'right' way was for him to take it. But if nothing else he felt it could simply stand as a thank you for what Kurt had given him. If nothing else he could just chalk it up to reciprocity and politeness. Not that he wanted to, but it was a satisfactory fall-back nonetheless.

Dave heard his stop announced over the intercom and he rose to exit through the subway's sliding doors along with a cadre of other passengers. It _was_ Friday night in Manhattan after all. He wasn't the only person with somewhere to be. He followed the crowds up to the exit and he emerged onto the chilly dark streets of New York's nicest borough.

Checking the time Dave saw it was 6:40 and he had estimated it would take him about 15 minutes to walk to the restaurant from here. Which meant he was exactly on time. He took a moment to double-check his directions to the venue one last time and then started to walk. His breath made little puffs in the chilly evening air as he went.


	7. Dinner part 1

Kurt paced nervously in the cold night air a few feet from the restaurant's front door. Dave was not late yet, but their reservation time was rapidly approaching. He was not afraid they would give the table away or anything, he was simply anxious to be comfortably seated with a menu in his hand and a glass of something alcoholic on its way.

They may have been comfortable chatting electronically, but Kurt admittedly felt a tad anxious about a long, private conversation with Dave in person, especially given the unequivocal romance of the setting. This was certainly not an official date; by all overt accounts they were simply two friends hanging out…very expensively, granted.

Still, there was a distinctly intimate air to the whole set-up that it would have been frankly ridiculous to deny. Kurt did not even try to fool himself on that count. However he had decided, for the sake of his sanity, to simply let the evening take its' course and find out where they ended up at its conclusion. Trying to stake out a position firmly beforehand seemed unwise to him. Walking the line felt like the best option for now.

Still half lost in his contemplations, Kurt soon saw a figure round the corner at one of the street's ends, and the gait of the man told him instantly it was David. As he approached, Kurt could see the other boy was holding a small box in his right hand, and he got the feeling he was in for a gift. The realization made him feel thrilled, curious and guilty all at once.

He was thrilled David had been thoughtful enough to bring him a present, curious as to what it was, but also worried that perhaps he had done it solely out of a feeling of obligation, which made Kurt feel guilty. After all, David certainly did not owe him anything. He decided, however, to see what the gift actually was before settling on an emotion to have about it.

Kurt could sense the awkward smile he was sporting as his companion for the night approached him. David seemed to be wearing a mirroring expression of sheepish excitement as he walked fully into the beam of light thrown onto the street by the restaurant.

"Hey," Kurt said, feeling any degree of coherence leave him as Dave stopped to stand a foot away from him, looking absolutely fabulous in the tie Kurt had made for him.

"Hey," Dave said back smiling, clearly amused by Kurt's underwhelming opener. "This is for you," he continued, holding out the box.

"Thank you," Kurt responded, with utter sincerity. "You didn't have to, you know," he then chided a second later, as he lifted the lid off the square container in his hand.

"I know, but I wanted to," Dave responded easily, grinning as he watched Kurt unfold the delicate turquoise paper.

When Kurt located the actual gift underneath the many layers of wrapping, he knew instantly Dave had chosen very well indeed. It was a white cotton scarf with the most amazingly detailed embroidery of a pirate ship in all four corners; and it was unequivocally something Kurt would have easily bought for himself without a second thought. He loved accessories that were elegant and edgy at the same time, and this was both in spades. It was perfect. So he decided to say so.

"It's perfect," Kurt said out loud, and Dave's nervous visage instantly transformed to one of thrilled satisfaction.

"I'm glad. Should we go in?"

"Yeah, it's getting quite cold out here."

Dave walked up the few stone steps to the front doors. Grasping the large sculpted bronze handle, he held the door open for the smaller boy walking in his wake.

"Why thank you!" Kurt responded, his tone overly sincere. He was clearly teasing Dave about his formality and Dave could not help but smile in return.

They both approached the host who was stood at a wooden podium waiting to greet guests as they entered. He was a tall thin man with jet black hair and a noticeably large nose sporting a flawless tuxedo. The boys approached him with mutual hesitation. Neither of them was in the habit of frequenting establishments as upscale as this and they clearly felt a bit out of place.

As the reservation was in Kurt names, he took the lead, declaring himself when the host graciously asked them if they had a prior arrangement. The man made a show of checking the reservation book which lay open in front of him on his podium.

As soon as he found Kurt's name on the list he tapped the book softly and said, "Ah, here you are Mr. Hummel. A reservation for two at 7 o'clock. Right on time. May I take your coats?" he asked, gesturing to the outerwear the boys no longer necessitated in the climate controlled restaurant.

They both surrendered their jackets without hesitance, each simply anxious at this point to be shown to their table. The man then handed the garments off to the coat check handing Kurt the slip of paper which would allow them to retrieve the checked items at the end of the evening.

"And if you would like to follow me."

The boys did, allowing themselves to be lead through the restaurant to their table which was relatively secluded towards the back. Kurt sat down on the far side of their rectangular table for two, leaving Dave to face him with his back towards the restaurant. This made him a bit uncomfortable, mostly because there was nothing to visually distract him from Kurt's face, which was looking particularly gorgeous tonight amidst the candle light being exuded by the votives glowing throughout the restaurant.

When they were settled, the host handed Kurt a copy of their wine list, proclaiming, "Here is a list of all the wines and spirits we have available. Now, I saw from your reservation you are paying with a voucher. Just to let you know, this entitles you to one free bottle of regular wine or champagne, along with one bottle of desert wine. Anything above that will be an extra charge. The voucher also entitles you to one starter, one entrée and one dessert item apiece. Anything beyond that will also be an extra charge. Do you have any questions?"

"No, I think we are good," Kurt responded, smiling politely.

"Excellent," the host replied smoothly. "Janine will be your server for the evening and she should be with you in just a few moments. I hope you enjoy your meal."

"Thank you," both boys said in unison as the man bowed slightly and turned to leave.

Dave and Kurt then met each other's gazes for split second before bursting into simultaneous fits of soft giggles. The excessive formality of the place made them both feel a bit absurd.

"Do you get the feeling you're playing grown-up right now, and any minute they are going to read you for an imposter and throw you out?" Kurt asked Dave conspiratorially under his breath.

"Totally," Dave replied. "I swear one wrong move and some alarm is going to go off and we're going to get dragged out onto the street by a bunch of waiters in tuxedos."

"I know, right?"

The boys had a good chuckled about the thought and then Kurt asked, "So what do you like to drink? White wine, red wine or champagne?"

"I dunno. You pick."

"You sure? Okay," Kurt responded, becoming absorbed in the menu. "Well since we're not celebrating anything, I think the champagne is out. Rachel always complains about how white wine gives her headaches. So I'll go with a red. Hmmm, Zinfandel, Merlot, Shiraz or Cabernet?"

"Does any of that mean anything to you?" Dave asked skeptically, a good humored note of sarcasm in his voice.

"Nope," Kurt responded with a cheeky smile.

"Yeah me neither. I bet they all taste basically the same anyway. Just pick one."

"Such a philistine!" Kurt replied with mock outrage as he proceeded to take Dave's advice. "Let's do the Shiraz. My step-mom seems to like it."

Just at that moment their waitress Janine arrived. She was an attractive woman in her late 20s with curly red hair and notable array a freckles covering her face.

"Hello, my name is Janine and I will be your server this evening. How are you gentleman tonight?" she asked sweetly.

"Fine thanks," Kurt replied.

"Excellent. Here are your menus," she continued as she handed the two folded black menus in her hand to Dave and Kurt respectively. "And have you made a drink selection to start?"

"Yes, we're going to share a bottle of the Shiraz," Kurt said, pointing to it on the wine list.

"An excellent choice. Why don't you take a look at our menu while I go get that bottle of wine, and I'll be back in just a moment to answer any questions you might have."

"Thank you," the boys said to their peppy waitress as she nodded and turn to leave.

They each then became absorbed in examining the food on offer. As he looked at the listings Dave became grateful that he'd had enough foresight to look up their menu in advance because a week ago, he would not have recognized at least half the things on it. Many of the appetizer choices he rejected immediately, including the calamari and the oysters. He was torn, however, between the pate and the twice-baked potato. He decided to ask Kurt what he was eying while he made up his mind.

"What are you gonna start with?" Dave asked his companion, who appeared totally absorbed in the black folder obscuring his face.

"Um I think either the calamari or the pate…" Kurt said with overt ambivalence.

"You like squid?" Dave asked, making a face.

"Why, you got a problem with that?" Kurt asked in mock confrontation.

"Yeah, it's gross," Dave said matter-of-factly.

"It's only gross to you because you are an uncultured swine," Kurt replied in an affected haughty voice, clearly kidding.

"Noted," Dave responded, amused.

Kurt then smiled at him and asked, "What are you gonna have?"

"Well, I can't decide between the twice baked potatoes or the pate."

"Why don't you get the potatoes and I'll get the pate and we can each have a taste of the other's?"

"Sounds good," Dave said, smiling at Kurt over his menu.

They each continued to peruse looking for an entrée. Many of the options sounded appealing to Dave but he knew what he was going to get: the fillet minion with asparagus fried in garlic butter with roasted almonds. Kurt once again had trouble making up his mind between the orange glazed duck on a bed of wild rice or the rosemary chicken with the garlic mashed potatoes. In the end Dave told him to go with the chicken, if only because he wanted a taste of those mashed potatoes.

Soon enough their waitress was back and holding the bottle of wine they had ordered. She showed it to Dave and he looked at the label and nodded. The waitress uncorked the bottle and then poured a small amount in Dave's glass. He sipped it and nodded almost instantly to her again, after which she poured each of them a healthy portion in their glasses, setting the rest of the bottle down for them to enjoy at their leisure.

"Are you all ready to order?" she then asked, taking out her pad and pen.

The boys nodded and then gave her their appetizer and entrée orders. And finally, it seemed, the night was actually theirs.

"So what do you think of the wine?" Kurt asked, as he watched Dave take a large sip.

Dave shrugged. It was a little sour, but he knew that to be true of all wine. And it did go down well, which also knew NOT to be true of all wine.

"It's alright. I prefer beer though."

"You are such a guy," Kurt responded, smiling at Dave and his very conventional preferences.

"How about you? What's your drink of choice?"

"Eh, I'm a bit of a cliché too, actually. I like mostly fruity cocktails."

"There's a joke in there somewhere, but I'm not even going to try and dig it out right now," Dave responded, smiling at the opportunity.

Kurt giggled as well at the implication and said, "I think you just did."

The boys continued chatting quite easily with one another, all the while sipping their drink. And soon enough they began to feel the heady buzz of the liquor washing through them. They both became more open and relaxed, many of their individual anxieties melting away in the wake of the wine and the discovery that they could converse comfortably, with no effort at all.


	8. Dinner part 2

"So you never told me exactly how you managed to swing this."

"Oh, yeah! My employer Jane was given the voucher as a bribe from some Wall Street Banker who wanted a personal design for his daughter. Jane said no, but kept the voucher and gave it to me."

"That was nice. Why'd she give it to _you_?"

"Why shouldn't she!?" Kurt demanded in mock outrage, as if Dave had been implying he did not deserve it.

Dave rolled his eyes good naturedly at Kurt's theatrics. "You know what I mean."

"It was a thank-you for all my extra work during fashion week," Kurt explained.

"You must have worked awfully hard," Dave commented, as their waitress approached with their starters.

She set down Kurt's plate first and then Dave's, announcing, "I hope you enjoy."

"Thanks," the boys responded, each now eying their plates.

Kurt's was fairly unspectacular in appearance, being nothing but a mound of beigey-pink pate and an attractive assortment of thinly sliced breads. Dave's, however, was verging on art. He had a square white plate with four potato halves spaced evenly on it in a cross pattern. They were each topped with decoratively placed sour cream and chives and branched over with delicately balanced strips of bacon.

Immediately Dave felt bad that he would have to destroy this creation in order to eat it, and his first impulse was to take a picture of it so at least the artistry of it could somehow be preserved. But he knew that would be uncouth in such a place and so he regretfully restrained himself, instead devoting his attention to considering how exactly he would tackle eating such a dish.

As he picked up his fork and knife cautiously he sense Kurt watching him.

"Don't screw up," Kurt said, clearly intuiting Dave's hesitance.

"Shut up. I just don't want it to go flying across the room when I try to cut it."

Kurt giggled and went back to spreading pate onto a bread slice, still watching Dave out of the corner of his eye with an amused smile. Finally Dave was able to cut off a decent bite and bring it to his mouth without incident. Having accomplished the feat alone was satisfying, but the taste was so absolutely gorgeous Dave had to restrain himself from moaning out loud.

"Good?" Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow, seeing Dave's slightly orgasmic expression.

"Really good," Dave replied, with his mouth still a half full.

"Can I?" Kurt then asked, as Dave set himself about slice off another bite.

"NO! It's mine!" Dave said, smiling at Kurt as he balanced the next bite on his fork.

He then lifted the utensil and turned it towards Kurt across the table, placing his other hand under it in case anything fell off. Recognizing the gesture, Kurt rose a bit from his seat, leaned across the table and enveloped the head of the fork in his mouth. More slowly than was necessary, in Dave's opinion, Kurt then pulled back releasing the fork from his nearly sealed lips. The act read as pseudo-sexual to Dave, and he felt a slight flare of arousal stir in his lower abdomen at the sight. The expression on Kurt's face as he chewed the divine appetizer did not help matters.

"That is amazing," Kurt said a moment later, after he had swallowed.

"I know, right? How's yours?"

"It's good, but yours is definitely better," Kurt replied with lighthearted conviction. "Let me have another bite."

"Hey, this is mine. Eat your own starter."

"Come on, just one more. Don't be greedy."

"Excuse me but you're the one being greedy here."

"Whatever, just one more?"

"Fine," Dave conceded, though less out of a desire to share than a desire to see Kurt's pretty mouth laving at phallic utensils again.

They completed the ritual once more, Kurt looking even more seductive the second time around, and just as he leaned back fully in his chair, the waitress appeared at their side once again.

"How is everything so far?" she asked.

Her tone was unscrupulously polite, but her face barely masked a knowing smile. She had clearly seen them sharing and read more into than was there. Or perhaps not.

"Great," Dave responded, while Kurt chewed.

"Really good," Kurt then added a moment later when his mouth was again food-free.

"Excellent. Let me know if you need anything. Your entrees should be out shortly."

The boys thanked her again and continued eating their starters, still sipping their wine intermittently.

After a moment, Kurt asked, "Hey did you want a taste of mine?"

"Oh yeah," Dave concurred, having forgotten their deal to share in the midst of consuming his own dish.

Kurt spread pate generously on one of the bread slices and then held it across the table, clearly intending that Dave should take it with his hand. However Dave was tipsy enough by this point that he managed to stick with his first impulse at acceptance when Kurt made the offer. Rising from his seat, just as Kurt had done, Dave leaned over and ate the offering directly from Kurt's hand.

Instantly Kurt began to laugh and blush and as Dave chewed the tasty morsel, it occurred to him he had probably never seen such an attractive sight in his entire life. It pleased him to no end that Kurt had found his gesture genuinely amusing, rather than overly familiar, as he had feared the boy might. The alcohol was no doubt a help in that regard as well.

However just as Kurt was coming down off his giggles, his face suddenly became very concerned.

"Oh, no. You got sour cream on your tie!"

Dave looked down and sure enough, he saw the small dollop that had clung to the accessory while he had bent over the table to eat out of Kurt's hand.

"Crap," Dave cursed, taking his napkin off his lap and wiping the spot off vigorously.

A tiny wet mark remained, but it did not appear there was any permanent damage.

"Good thing it wasn't the wine. That you'd have never gotten out. And then you'd have ruined a Kurt Hummel original on its maiden voyage out into the world."

"Wait, what?" Dave asked, as he put his napkin back on his lap and set about finishing his starter.

"What what?" Kurt asked, seeming confused.

"What do you mean 'a Kurt Hummel original'?"

"I made that tie. It's one of a kind. My first original piece. Well, the first one I made for anyone other than myself."

"Seriously?" Dave asked, stunned to discover how much more personal the gift was than he had previously known.

"Yeah. Sorry, I thought you already knew for some reason."

"No, I, well, um…thanks. I'm honored."

Dave could feel the pink rise in his cheeks as he babbled and struggled to thank Kurt appropriately.

"God you're cute when you blush," the boy said in an uncharacteristically low voice as he gazed at Dave intently across the candle-lit table.

At these words a wave of desire hammered through Dave as took in his companion's appraising visage across from him. The boy's declaration rung very sincere and Dave could practically feel the hormones beginning to flood his body as he realized Kurt was, by all accounts, coming-on to him.

Feeling he should say something, before the moment dragged for too long, Dave gave the only response he felt capable of while Kurt was looked at him so seductively through his long-lashed stunningly green-blue eyes.

"So are you."

The moment spiraled swiftly in the direction of desire, and just when the tension seemed to be reaching a threshold of unbareability, the waitress returned.

"Are you two done with your appetizers, or would you like a few more minutes?"

With the spell broken, Dave turned his gaze away from Kurt and said, "I'm done."

"Yeah, me too."

They watched the waitress clearly their plates and then say, "Your entrees should be out any moment."

Both boys nodded at her and she left swiftly, seeming to have sensed from her sheepish expression that she had interrupted something. But the moment was gone and an awkward silence now took its place. Dave drank the last of the wine in his glass to cover the moment and then immediately poured himself more. Seeing that Kurt was almost out as well, he gestured in offer. Kurt nodded and Dave poured.

"Thanks," Kurt said, his voice almost a whisper.

It was at that point that Dave started mentally running down the list he had made of possible topics of discussion. Although he could think of others, and although he knew he probably should have broached them first, the liquor in his system and Kurt's flirtations made the topic of _the boyfriend_ seem like the most attractive subject of conversation not yet explored.

"So, out of curiosity, what's the deal with you and Blaine these days? Still in limbo with all of that?" Dave asked.

Kurt considered Dave for a long moment and then replied, "No, actually. We decided to take a break for a while."

"What does that mean?" Dave asked, feeling genuinely unclear as to the meaning of those words in this particular context.

"Well, I talked to him a little while ago and we decided we did not want to _end it_, end it, until we had a chance to talk to each other in person. But we both agreed that we're free to explore other options in the mean time."

"Oh. I see. Are you okay with that?"

"I was the one that suggested it."

A long moment of silence followed this proclamation. Then Kurt rose rather suddenly and declared, "I need to use the bathroom."

Dave watched him edge around the right side of their table and wander off toward a doorway on the far end of the restaurant. As soon as he was out of sight, he took a large sip of the wine still in front of him. While he had been in many ways hoping for this, the sudden overt prospect of their evening progressing in a romantic and even sexual direction was actually clearly causing a good amount of discomfort and strain. And Dave felt frustrated by his total inability to defuse it. How did other people do this?

Kurt meanwhile was standing in front of the large ornate bathroom mirror asking himself roughly the same question. He had not meant to make things awkward by mentioning how attractive David was when he blushed, but as always seemed to happen when he drank, the wine had made him a bit more verbose than usual.

Thankfully David had not taken the complement badly, but somehow being so upfront had caused their previously light hearted flirtations to come to an end, to be replaced by awkward silences and probing inquiries about exes. Somehow, somewhere, the night had turned quite serious, and far from resolving the many looming questions it held, all it had done was make the two boys feel more distant, and unsure.


	9. Dinner part 3

**Last dinner chapter! Hope you enjoy.**

When Kurt returned to the table a few minutes later he was pleased to see their entrees had arrived. David had not taken a bite of his, though it looked divine, and Kurt realized the other boy had been waiting for him out of politeness. He smiled with earnest pleasure; David's restraint was very gentlemanly.

"You didn't have to wait for me, you know" Kurt said as he took up his seat once more.

"Yeah, but I wanted to," David replied, picking up his fork and smiling kindly at Kurt over his meal.

Kurt felt his heart melt a little, but refrained from saying anything about it. No doubt he would just ruin the moment. However he did smile kindly back.

The two boys tucked in, exchanging remarks mainly on the food. As Kurt praised the garlic mashed potatoes he remembered Dave had wanted to try them, and he hesitated for only a short moment before offering.

"Do you want to try some?"

David looked longingly at coveted side dish but waved away Kurt's offer, saying "Nah, it's okay."

"You are such a liar. Here, have a taste," Kurt insisted holding out a generous portion on his fork as Dave had done with his appetizer earlier.

Dave looked at Kurt for a second, as if still a bit undecided, then rose, flattened his tie against his stomach and bent over to take the proffered bite. It was every bit as scrumptious as he had imagined.

"That _is_ good."

"I know. The chicken's quite tasty as well. Want some?"

"No, that's really okay. I've got enough meat on my plate for tonight."

Kurt tried to hold in the smile he felt emerging at this unsuspecting declaration, but the double entendre was just too irresistible to let go unacknowledged. Kurt allowed the amusement he felt show on his face, and a moment later David made eye contact with him.

At first he appeared confused as to Kurt's overly meaningful smirk, but then it appeared to dawn on him. And he smiled back, clearly in spite of himself. Kurt let out a few soft giggles then as Dave nodded congenial and said, without heat, "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."

With their teasing, comfortable atmosphere restored, the boys continued to eat and joke with one another affectionately, every once in a while exchanging food across the table. They had an easy flirtatious camaraderie when they weren't too much in their own heads, and with that dynamic restored the meal progressed almost too quickly for either of the liking.

Soon enough the waitress was back asking if they were done with their entrees and if they were interested in desert. They looked at each other cautiously for a moment then both nodded.

"Great, I'll get you each some dessert menus."

"Should we get more wine as well?" Kurt asked Dave cautiously.

Dave was all for more alcohol, but he did not want to seem too desperate to be drunk.

Cautiously he replied, "Well, it is already paid for."

"True," Kurt concurred, smiling. Clearly David had given the answer he had wanted.

"Here you are," the waitress said, handing each of them a small single sheet menu. "Would you like a minute to decide…?"

"Um, yeah," Kurt said, as he gave the list a cursory glance.

"Okay, no problem. I'll be back in a minute."

"How about you choose the wine this time, since I chose last time," Kurt suggested, confronted with yet another range of alcoholic options, none of which were remotely familiar.

"Okay," Dave said.

He then proceeded to close his eyes and stick his finger randomly at a spot on the menu.

"Looks like we're having a Riesling," he informed Kurt. "Now, on to more important matters…"

They both then set about selecting their desert. Kurt knew as soon as he saw it that the chocolate mousse was the only way to go. David had a tougher time deciding but eventually settled on the lemon tart. When the waitress returned the boys indicated their preferences and she studiously took them down, relieving them of their menus as she left.

The moment was just about to become awkward when Kurt interjected.

"I meant to ask you, where did you get that scarf?"

"Oh, it's from this little store that's near my campus. It's right across the street from a deli I like to go to sometimes. I think it's called 'The Cat's Meow,' something like that."

"You may have to take me there sometime. I'm always looking for new sources of fashion inspiration."

"And more stuff to put in your closet," Dave added knowingly. Kurt regularly texted him about buying clothes and accessories he could barely afford, complaining about his lack of self-control.

"Shhhhh!" Kurt scolded him, obviously in good humor.

The boy's chuckle was interrupted by Janine, who brought out a smaller bottle of white wine, and two fresh glasses. They repeated the earlier wine ritual, which Dave was once again grateful that he had seen his father do a few times while growing up. Otherwise he would have had no idea what was going on.

Janine poured each of them a conservative amount in their glasses and then said, "Your desserts are almost ready."

The boys nodded at her and each tasted their wine. It was much sweeter than either of them had expected and David deduced that that was precisely what qualified it as a "dessert wine."

"I could actually get used to this," he said, finishing his first sip and looking appreciatively at the remainder in his glass.

"I just hope it doesn't give me a headache," Kurt replied, casually.

"Well, small price to pay for the pleasure of my company," Dave retorted with a smile.

"For your information there are plenty of other people I could have come with tonight," Kurt rebutted haughtily.

"Yeah, but you chose me," said Dave significantly.

"It was only to make sure the tie turned out alright."

"And did it?" Dave asked in all seriousness under his breath, cocking an eyebrow.

Kurt found the entire spectacle profoundly alluring and was visited by a distinct throb in his lower abdomen.

"I…um, yes," said Kurt finally, feeling quite stupid at not being able to manage a better answer.

"Glad you think so," David said softly.

Kurt felt his eyes widen involuntarily at David's very seductive turn of manner. Likely the boy wasn't doing it intentionally. From what Kurt knew, he had basically zero dating or real-life romantic experience. But somehow his lack of intent just made the whole thing that much more appealing. And he knew if David had said something like this while they were alone together in his apartment, for instance, Kurt would have kissed him. As it was he was having trouble not reaching across the table and grabbing him by the tie right now.

Feeling it was needed, Kurt took a large sip of his wine and was relieved to see out of the corner of his eye, the waitress with their desserts.

"One chocolate mousse, and one lemon tart," she said with her now predictable bubbliness. "Can I get you fellows anything else?"

"Nope, I think we're good," David replied, with utter assurance.

"Fantastic. Enjoy."

Kurt was glad he now had a legitimate excuse to stop looking at Dave. Instead he eyed his mound of creamy chocolate which was sitting in a martini glass and topped off with a raspberry garnish. He immediately picked up his dessert spoon and tucked in.

It was utterly divine and Kurt let this fact show on his face and in his voice.

"Mmmmmm" he exclaimed, rather pornographically.

"Good?" David asked, raising an eyebrow at Kurt's exclamations.

"Amazing, you have to try some."

Kurt pushed his dish across the table towards his companion. Dave used his own spoon and took a small sample.

"God, that is good. It's something about the texture."

"I know. It's so silky. How is yours?"

"Really good. You want some?"

"Nah. Lemon's not really my thing."

"More for me."

The boys made quick work of their actual desserts but lingered on the wine. Neither of them wanted to leave yet and they seemed to have come to a silent agreement to make the evening last as long as possible. Eventually however, their glasses ran empty and they had to ask Janine for the bill. Kurt signed for it and she bid them good night as they rose to leave.

Retrieving their jackets from the coat check the pair re-donned them as they prepared to go back out into the chilly evening, each of them sensing the awkwardness increasing exponentially with every moment. Although it was rather late, neither of them wanted the night to be over by that point. Yet both were hesitant to offer any kind of invitation of an alternative.

As they stood casually outside the front of the restaurant once more, Dave looked at his watch significantly and said, "Well, I guess I should start heading back. Got a ways to go to get back to Brooklyn. To be honest, it's not the safest place to be wandering around at night."

In other circumstances, Kurt might have let that comment go, and Dave along with it. But he had enough drink in his system to make an alternative suggestion.

"Hey, if you don't want to go all the way back tonight, you could just crash on my couch. I don't live all that far from here."

Dave looked into Kurt's eyes very intently. Although he was sure the offer was genuine, he was not entirely sure what the offer really was. Kurt, by all accounts, made it sound platonic, but perhaps this was just his subtle way of suggesting something else…a thought which simultaneously thrilled Dave, and sent part of his mind into panic.

Although sex with the other boy was a regular part of his fantasy life, in real life he had no such experience, with Kurt or anyone else. What if he screwed it up? What if he was a totally bumbling idiot? It was easy to feel ready for sex when he was alone and horny, and having to make do with his hand. But with the prospect actually presenting itself, potentially, Dave felt a great deal more hesitance.

"David?"

"Um, yeah. Okay. Thanks."

It was more than likely this offer did not, in fact, include sex Dave conceded to himself. More than likely that was just wishful thinking on his part. However the small possibility that it could had his stomach flooding with butterflies as Kurt moved to hail them a cab. And even if it didn't, sleeping on Kurt's couch still sounded more appealing than journey home alone on public transport, especially at this time of night.

Either way it was a win, Dave thought to himself as he opened the cab door for Kurt.

"Such a gentleman!" Kurt said as he flashed Dave a cheeky smile and climbed into the vehicle.

Dave followed suit, finding himself smiling with genuine affection in return as he sat down in their taxi and closed the door behind him, on his way to spend the night with another boy in some as yet undetermined capacity.


	10. Pajamas

"Shhhh!" Kurt scolded, barely suppressing a giggle as fumbled in the dark for the right key to open his front door.

Dave was trying to hold in his laughter, as he knew Kurt's neighbors would not appreciate their noisy antics at this hour, but he could not entirely control himself. The other boy had shared with him a mildly amusing tale about one of his work colleagues, and in their drunken state, the anecdote had seemed a lot funnier than it otherwise would have been.

Eventually Kurt found the right key and opened the door to his apartment, tiptoeing cautiously into the dark, domestic space. Dave followed his lead, walking quietly over the threshold and closing the door behind them as Kurt hesitantly flicked on the closest set of lights.

"Hello?" the boy asked, to the empty apartment.

Silence pervaded in response.

"Good, Rachel's not home. She told me she would be spending the night with Brody, but I just needed to be sure. Didn't want her to wake up and find you on the couch by surprise. That would be unpleasant, to say the least."

"Yeah, something tells me with those pipes, her scream could wake up the whole apartment building."

"Are you kidding? It could wake up the whole city block. Have a seat, I'll make some coffee."

Dave took off his coat and laid it over the back of the sofa before setting himself down on it. He felt a bit awkward just sitting there while Kurt was fussing around in the kitchen. However, he knew if he tried to assist he would only get in the other boy's way and since he was already intruding on Kurt's hospitality he did not feel inclined to make himself more of nuisance.

So while he waited for Kurt to finish his task, Dave took in Kurt's apartment. It was an open floor plan, with hard wood floors covered in various colorful rugs, brick walls and high ceilings. Predictably it was decorated quite chicly, and Dave suspected that that was mostly Kurt's doing. The boy simply could not resist trying to make everything around him more beautiful.

They had a fairly large TV set, which sat directly across from Dave and which he eyed with some envy. He missed watching sports games on his family's large flat-screen TV. Football just was not the same streaming on his 14" laptop.

The aroma of coffee began to permeate the air, and Dave could tell Kurt had pulled out the good stuff. It smelled absolutely divine.

"You take just milk, right? No sugar?"

"Yep," Dave replied over his shoulder to his host.

He listened as he heard coffee mugs being retrieved from cabinets and filled with coffee. There was the momentary sound of stirring spoons and soon enough the other boy was walking across the hard wood floors with two steaming cups in his grip, one in each hand. He leaned down carefully and handed Dave his, which came in a black mug with a _Phantom of the Opera_ logo. As Kurt sat down next him, Dave noticed he had reserved the _Wicked_ mug for himself.

As soon as his weight was rested on the couch, Kurt set his drink down on the coffee table and proceeded to remove his shoes.

"You can take off your shoes too, if you like," he said from his doubled over position.

At first Dave was inclined to resist, feeling it would be impolite. But truth be told, he was pinning to be free of his shoes, and besides, he did not want to make Kurt uncomfortable by insisting on behaving with more formality than his host.

Setting his cup down on the table he kicked off his loafers and also removed his suit jacket which was feeling very restrictive at that moment. He took the liberty as well of unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves. When he finally sat back on the couch once again, cup in hand, he indubitably felt more comfortable…physically at least.

He took a sip of the coffee which was still quite warm but not unbearably hot, and found it very much to his liking.

"That's really good. What brand is it?"

"It's Starbucks Christmas blend. They only sell it during Christmas time but I stock up on it, because I love it so much."

"I can see why," Dave said, as he brought the cup back to his lips. However, in his still moderately inebriated state he ended up missing his mouth and spilling a considerable amount of the hot liquid on the crotch of his pants.

"Crap!" he exclaimed as he hurriedly set the cup back down and stood up so the soaked fabric was not plastered directly to his skin.

Kurt, too, immediately set his drink down and stood up, ordering Dave to go to the bathroom and remove his pants. "Rachel's boyfriend leaves a couple of pairs of sweats here and one of them should fit you alright," he explained, directing Dave to their bathroom while he went in search of the promised garment.

Dave did as Kurt suggested, removing his soiled trousers the moment he was on the far-side of the bathroom door and cursing himself silently for being a clumsy idiot. Whether Kurt was intending this evening to end extra happily for him or not, Dave knew he had not done himself any favors by spilling all over himself like a four-year-old. How utterly embarrassing.

After a moment there was a knock at the door. Dave opened it about 15 degrees and instantly a pair of dark green sweats was being held out to him from a disembodied arm protruding from the other side of the door.

"They might be a little small, but they'll still probably be more comfortable than yours at this point," Kurt explained with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Thanks," Dave replied as he retrieved the proffered pants from his host.

He closed the door once again and unfurled the bundle to eye the borrowed slacks. Instantly he agreed with Kurt's assessment that they would likely be a little tight but not un-wearable. Breathing a sigh of relief for small favors, Dave stepped into them, grateful as well that they were open at the bottom. He hated the kind that bunched at the ankle.

Pulling them up over his thighs Dave deliberately set them low around his hips, which minimized their tightness in the waist area. After a moment's glance at himself in the mirror he also decided to remove his tie and button down shirt, while he was at it. With the sweatpants on, the formal top looked frankly ridiculous and Dave was already feeling absurd enough as it was. He had on a plain white tee underneath and that would do just fine for having coffee in Kurt's apartment at 11:30pm he decided.

Gathering up the remnants of his suit into a ball, Dave tucked the unruly mass of fabric under one arm, keeping only the tie separate out of respect for Kurt's gift.

Dave then sheepishly reemerged from the bathroom to find the living room and dining room empty. He imagined Kurt must have gone into his own room, likely to change as well. Taking advantage of this moment alone, Dave folded his suit up piece by piece and laid it over the back of the couch atop his coat and suit jacket, waiting for Kurt to reappear. And just as he laid the prized pink tie on top of the folded stack, he heard a door in the apartment open, and Kurt emerged a moment later wearing a pair of loose Batman pajama bottoms and a tight wife-beater t-shirt which exposed a great deal of skin, particularly on the boy's surprisingly muscular arms, and delicately defined collar bone.

The two made eye contact from across the space, taking in the sight of each other so exposed in their casual attire, and in that moment, Dave was convinced he was about to cum in his pants at the mere sight of the boy across from him, so unassumingly erotic was the image he presented. Particularly the hooded, appraising look the other boy was giving him, which if he had to put a name to it, looked an awful lot like desire.


	11. On the Couch

_**Sorry this took so long to get up! (so to speak...) Hope you all enjoy it, and hopefully I won't be so long between updates next time.**_

Kurt stared at David, looking so homey in his sweatpants and plain white t-shirt. He imagined that must be what Dave looked like when he got up in the morning, more or less; bleary-eyed and a bit unbalanced, without guile of any sort. And he was struck by how much that image touched him. The thought of seeing David in such a state made his chest ache a tiny bit…amongst other parts of him.

Wresting himself from that train of thought, Kurt declared, "Shall we?" indicating the couch once again. "I'm sure the coffee's still warm."

"Yeah," Dave replied, seeming to snap out of some small reverie in which he had been lost.

They resumed their seats on the sofa, and each took up their own mugs once again, sipping the still warm but rapidly cooling coffee. An odd little silence pervaded. It was not awkward exactly, but neither was it entirely comfortable. It seemed pregnant with something just beyond articulation.

After a few sips in the companionable silence, Dave said, "Thanks again for letting me stay over. And sorry I'm such a klutz."

"It's okay. It's not like I've never spilled anything when I was tipsy."

"I'm just glad I didn't get any on your tie," Dave replied, earnestly.

"It's your tie, now," Kurt reminded him.

"Yeah, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I suppose I do."

Kurt paused for a moment before continuing, "I'm glad it means that much to you."

"It does," Dave replied, gazing intently at him as he took a sip from his mug.

Kurt watched this act, feeling fixated by the movement of Dave's lips, their pale pink tint, the moisture visible revealing their texture. And a flare of arousal wracked his whole body as it asked, with sudden urgency, to taste those lips.

Kurt felt very hot all over and his breathing became labored as blood began to pool in the lower region of his abdomen. He needed to make a decision, and he needed to do it soon. The possibility that this might turn sexual was evident to both parties at this point, and Kurt knew it would not be out of line, nor even unexpected, for him to make a move. But he was not quite sure how, nor was he entirely convinced it was a good idea at all.

He was very clear that he wanted to have sex with the boy sitting next to him on the couch. However, what it might mean, and what it _ought_ to mean, was a question a great deal more murky. Kurt was not sure that he wanted to pursue such a course of action without clarity in advance as to what it meant. He was not the sort of person to just barrel in and decide on the significance later.

However the night was getting older, their coffee was almost gone, and the tension was reaching an uncomfortable peak. At this juncture, Kurt could practically feel the influx of sexual energy radiating from the boy sitting next him, and he was sure he was giving off no less than he was getting. But closing the gap was not a simple task, nor could it be taken for granted.

While everything in his body screamed at him to kiss the boy next to him, the sober part of Kurt's mind warned that perhaps the timing was not right, and that waiting might be better. On the other hand, if he waited too long, it might result in a missed opportunity, and maybe even a misunderstanding. Kurt hated the thought that Dave might misread his reticence and think he was uninterested. He and Dave had had so many misunderstandings in the past, Kurt greatly feared adding another one to their long, tortured history.

He felt his resistance crumbling. He felt his body winning the pull as it brought his mind on board with what it wanted. And eventually he felt a certain sense of relief. He was going to give in, and it felt like the right call.

Grateful he was not stone cold sober just yet, Kurt watched Dave down the last of his coffee, set the cup back down on the coffee table and stare at him hesitantly. He could see the searching wonder in the boy's eyes, attempting to read what was happening without making anything too explicit. With his mind now firmly made up, Kurt felt he should put the boy out of his misery.

Downing the very last of his beverage, he set it back down on the table as well, and then leaned into Dave's personal space. Not far enough to kiss him, just far enough to make the suggestion blatant. Looking Dave squarely in the eyes, Kurt said in an uncharacteristically low voice, "Well, we can go to bed now if you like, or we can...stay up together for a little while."

Though his words were rather ambiguous, Kurt tried to make his full meaning as clear as possible with his eyes and body language. He was fairly certain he was successful, because David soon let out as very audible exhale and Kurt could see the flush invade his cheeks. The boy visibly struggled for a moment to find any words, but eventually he replied, with quiet firmness, "I think I want to stay up."

Kurt felt his mouth curl up into a wide, involuntary smile. Going on instinct, a second later he braced his weigh with one hand against the back of the couch and swung his right leg over Dave's lap, straddling him. Kurt watched Dave's eyes nearly bulge out of his head in response to this, and a breath come heaving in and out of the boy's chest as he exerted what looked like a gargantuan effort to not devour Kurt whole.

One solid beat of raw tension passed while they gazed at each other from this intimate position. Then Kurt grabbed Dave's head with both hands, just as Dave did the same with Kurt's hips. Their mouths met just as their pelvises did, and the deluge of pleasure was downright excruciating. Kurt's tongue invaded Dave's mouth hungrily, and Dave responded with fierce encouragement, rubbing Kurt's tongue frantically with his own as he manically grasped the boy's back and buttocks with fevered urgency. Kurt, in fact, could soon feel the other boy's body begin to vibrate all over and he knew Dave was likely doing everything in his earthly power not to cum right then and there.

It was a realization both so flattering and so hot, it made Kurt's own quickly growing erection jump as he pressed it up against the impressive bugle displayed by his companion. And it became readily apparent at that moment they certainly were not going to get as far as anal sex this time around. Both of them were simply too overwrought for something that advanced.

Wanting to draw out the pleasure as long as possible, but also desperate for the incredible orgasm he knew was building quickly, Kurt broke off their kiss to pull up on the hem of Dave's top.

"Take off your shirt," he whispered against the other boy's mouth, as he tugged at the garment.

Dave leaned forward and put up his arms to do as Kurt asked. With his shirt indisposed, they resumed their kiss briefly before Dave started doing the same. Kurt immediately followed suit, giving Dave what he sought almost instantly.

When their naked upper bodies came into alignment, both boys moaned at the gorgeous friction and heat, it adding to their pleasure as they sought fiercely to fully feel one another. The violence of Kurt's desire as he kissed the boy beneath him frankly scared him, and he knew that if that's how he felt, Dave must be feeling something akin to pure aching torture. Kurt, at least, had the benefit of some previous sexual experience. Dave was a virgin, and from what Kurt could infer given his knowledge about the boy, he had likely never even really kissed anybody. This was incredibly new to him, and likely, incredibly overwhelming.

Just as that thought occurred to him, Dave broke off their kiss once again to proclaim, "Kurt, I can't…I just can't stop…"

He sounded desperate, almost child-like in his earnest disclosure that his body was quickly moving out the realm of his mastery.

"It's okay," Kurt replied, feeling suddenly no less aroused, but very in control of the situation, if not entirely himself.

"Take off your pants," he instructed Dave, as he pulled at the waistband of the borrowed sweats.

Dave lifted his hips and Kurt pulled the last two pieces of clothing off him, unable to stop himself from gawking at the other boy's frankly enormous penis, which was at that moment standing fully at attention and was an almost angry shade of pink. Kurt found the image wholly mesmerizing and even though he intended to de-pants himself as well, he could not help but stop and give the member a few solid strokes.

When he did this, Dave threw back his head and stared up at the ceiling while staccatoed exclamations burst forth from his mouth in involuntary fits. It was an utterly beguiling sight to behold and Kurt found himself completely overwhelmed by the guilelessness of Dave's responses to his attentions. There was nothing remotely practiced or feigned about the boy's behavior; it was raw and completely uncensored, and it made Kurt feel, for the first time in his life, like he was quite possibly the sexiest thing in the world.

Although sex itself was something he had familiarity with, this kind of uninhibited, almost excessive desire was not. His encounters with Blaine had always been pleasurable, to be sure. But they had also always been rather slow, the pressure building steadily, and lazily. Sex with Blaine had been like a slow boil, starting off lukewarm and getting hotter, more intense, very incrementally. With Dave, it seemed more like a forceful electrical current – swift, jolting, instantaneous. It wracked his body like a bolt of lightning, it did not rise gradually and eventually bubble over. His desire for Dave was ferocious, piercing, all-consuming. And he could tell that feeling was most certainly _not_ one-sided, either. If anything, Dave's reaction to him were more intense than his reactions to Dave, which was saying an awful lot.

Desperate to get them both to the orgasm that felt so close, Kurt removed his own pants and underwear and brought his erection right up against David's. He ground their hips together and Dave let out a guttural noise followed by a _"Holy fuck!"_

Kurt gave the boy another firm, but short opened mouth kiss before bringing his right hand up to his mouth and moistening it generously with his tongue. He then put just enough space between their bodies to grab hold of both of their dicks and begin stroking them in unison with his lubricated hand.

When he started doing this Dave threw back his head again and stared at the ceiling, continuing to issue forth phrases like _"jesus christ!"_ and _"holy shit," _interspersed with random, incoherent exclamations of his lust. David's responses were so genuine, so blatantly authentic, they served as searing volts of arousal to Kurt, and they shot through him every time the boy bucked his hips or voiced his delight at Kurt's ministrations.

With the boy's head thrown back, Kurt had a long view of his neck and it quickly became a site of attention for him. Leaning in, he placed his mouth right at the juncture of neck and jaw beneath Dave's ear, and bit gently but firmly on sensitive skin there. This act resulted in a violent bucking of Dave's pelvis that was so strong it would have unbalanced Kurt had David not simultaneously grabbed hold of his hips and kept the boy pressed to his lap.

"UGH! Fuck me, yes!" David groaned, writhing underneath the combined onslaught of Kurt's vigorous hand and attentive mouth.

Kurt could feel David shaking all over like a leaf in the wind and he knew the boy was just on the precipice, likely seconds away from going over.

Detaching his mouth from its position on Dave's neck, Kurt gave his companion another short, rough open-mouthed kiss before beginning to whisper.

"Cum for me, David. Cum for me and next time I'll let you pound away up inside my sweet, tight ass. I'll let you pound my tight little ass and I'll let you come inside me."

That image must have done it, for David then let out a spectacular roar and clenched his hands on Kurt's hips so intensely, Kurt would later develop bruises. Oblivious to any pain, however, totally engrossed by the heady pleasure of the moment, Kurt continued to pump his hand frantically along the length of their two erections. And soon enough, he watched as cum began shooting out of end of Dave's swollen dick.

The image was such an unbelievable turn-on for Kurt that it felt like his brain was melting at the sight of it, and not long after, he found his own release, his own cum spurting only a moment later all over David's stomach and chest. Kurt rode the waves of his body's stunning orgasm fiercely, feeling such an enormous discharge of energy that it shook his very core and left him feeling without a bone in his body, and without a care in this world as he collapsed, totally spent, on the couch next to Dave.


	12. Perfect

**_Glad so many of you enjoyed my last chapter! I actually think this one is a bit better, but I'll let you all be the judge. Enjoy!_**

After a few moments of nothing but catching their breath, Kurt flung out a hand and felt along the floor beside the couch. He still felt very weak from his climax, but time was of the essence and eventually he located what he was grasping for – some garment with which to wipe down the remaining excesses of their orgasms. Fisting what turned out to be David's undershirt, Kurt brought it up to the boy's chest and cleaned the stickiness off him in one clean stroke. He then carelessly tossed it back on the floor and fully snuggled up against his companion.

As he laid the side of his head against the other boy's sternum, he could hear the still-rapid _thud_ of his heartbeat. It sounded solid, rhythmic, and healthy, like the drumbeat of a soul. It was equally captivating and comforting, and Kurt snuggled down into it, letting it lull him towards sleep.

"Thanks" Dave murmured then, clearly in response to his wipe-down.

Kurt smiled against his chest.

"No problem," he said softly.

A moment later Kurt felt Dave's left arm shift slightly and then a light, steady caress along his back. He found the gesture endearing and reciprocated by running his hand playfully through the other boy's chest hair.

"That tickles," he both felt and heard Dave say, a smile in the other boy's voice as he did so.

Although he sensed this was not a complaint, Kurt stopped stroking anyway and turned his head to face his companion.

"Sorry," he said, grinning lazily at Dave.

"No, it's fine. I don't mind. I was just saying," David babbled, he speech slightly slurred from tiredness.

They were still and content for a long moment before Kurt asked a question which was still nagging at him from the back of his mind.

"So, was this your first time?"

The inquiry was honestly motivated by nothing more than pure curiosity on Kurt's part, but the moment it escaped his lips, Kurt realized Dave had taken it differently; a distinct look of worry and shame flashed across his face.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't mean to cum so quickly," the boy mumbled, a flush invading his cheeks as he avoided eye-contact.

Realizing Dave had taken the question as a subtle critique, Kurt felt a strong impulse to set him straight.

"No, no, it wasn't a complaint. I really was just curious. To be honest, I really just wanted to know if I was your first."

Dave looked as if he did not fully believe this explanation, but he seemed to relax somewhat as he caught Kurt's eye again and said, "Yeah, you were."

"I was your first kiss, too, wasn't I?"

"Yeah. I mean, if you can call it that."

"Well, what would you call it?"

"I don't know. It was more a frantic disclosure than it was an actual kiss."

"Still counts to me," Kurt said, a bit possessively.

He kind of enjoyed the idea that so many of Dave's firsts belonged to him. It felt right to him, and satisfying somehow.

"You were my first kiss too, you know. Well, the first one I count, anyway, since you were the first boy."

"You've kissed a girl?" Dave asked him, not bothering to hide the incredulity in his voice as his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Although he knew the boy did not mean anything insulting by it, Kurt still felt the slightest pang at this, as if David were unintentionally insinuating what a flaming faerie he was.

"Yeah, why? Is that really so hard to believe?" he demanded, more aggressively than he meant to.

"I dunno," David replied, clearly taken aback by Kurt's shift in tone. "I just never imagined you would even consider doing something like that. I mean, why bother?"

"You know, despite what you may think, you are not the only one here who had trouble accepting their sexual orientation at first."

Normally Kurt would not have let his hurt over this show in his voice, but given that they were still naked after having cum all over each other, it felt a bit silly to try and mask it now.

"Sorry," Dave responded, looking at Kurt with a sudden intense amount of concern. "I honestly didn't know."

"Yeah, well, sorry I'm not the pure beacon of pride you always thought I was," Kurt mumbled resentfully, avoiding eye-contact.

That was the one part of him that had always made him feel stronger than David in some small way. Now he felt terribly vulnerable having suddenly disclosed to David that he had not, in fact, always been totally copacetic with his sexuality.

"Hey, you don't have to apologize to me. You don't owe me any explanations. And it's certainly not for me to judge how you handled that back in high school. I mean, if anyone has no place to judge something like that, it's me. Please don't be mad at me."

He said this with such sincerity, Kurt could not help but melt. The rational part of him had known from the outset David had intended no offense. He had stumbled into Kurt's insecurity quite accidentally, and Kurt knew it was unfair to punish the other boy for that.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. I just find it a bit uncomfortable to talk about is all."

"I get that. And look, I don't think it's shameful that you kissed a girl, even as cover. You were working it out. I don't think there's anything wrong with that at all."

"Yeah, but it's not like I was 'confused,' or anything. It's not like I didn't always _know_ it was a sham."

"Hey, why are you getting so worked up over this?" Dave asked, concerned by how serious Kurt was becoming.

"Because _I _should have been above something like that! I should never have needed to do all that in the first place…"

"You mean unlike me?" Dave replied, with sudden clarity and pointed seriousness.

Kurt's eyes widened noticeably at David's words and they stared each other down intently for one very long moment.

Finally Kurt broke their eye contact, looked away a bit shamefaced and said, "Well, yeah," under his breath.

Two minutes ago Dave was half convinced he would never again be persuaded to move from where he lay on Kurt's couch. But that was before Kurt had basically called him weak to his face. Jerking himself upright, Dave started feeling around for his clothes as Kurt jumped off him into a sitting position on the sofa.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he asked, as Dave began bundling his garments in his arms.

"Getting dressed," Dave muttered under his breath.

"Wait, stop," Kurt said, putting a hand on Dave's arm just as he was about to stand.

Dave halted his movements and looked the other boy squarely in the eye.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way," Kurt intoned very earnestly.

"How did you mean it, then?"

"I…" Kurt looked at a loss for words.

Dave did not know what exactly he had been expecting, or wanting, from Kurt. He just knew he could not continue to lay there naked with him after the boy essentially called him a coward and could not even offer up a decent explanation, let alone an apology.

Rising, he made short work of putting on his boxers and pants. He did not exactly know whether truly he intended to leave or not. All he knew was that it felt important to communicate to Kurt how hurt he had been by his words.

Following suit, Kurt re-donned his pajama pants and tank-top, before trying to engage with Dave again.

"David, stop! Look, I'm really sorry. I wasn't trying to say I was better than you. It's just, you've always been so much stronger and more powerful than me, in every possible way. And I wanted to believe there was one thing, one place where I had always been stronger than you. But even that's not true. I never really had the upper hand in anything," he concluded dejectedly.

When Kurt had begun talking about how he, David, had always so much strong than him, Dave had fixed Kurt with a penetrating stare. In truth, he had always felt so much weaker than the other boy, not to mention the other boy had always _been_ his bigges_t_ weakness, in a way. To think that Kurt had ever imagined him as the stronger one of the two of them, in any way other than the most brutely superficial, was revelatory to Dave. Kurt had always been the stronger one in his mind, and it was strange to think the other boy never saw it that way.

Walking straight up to Kurt, he looked him directly in the eye and said, "You were never weak. Not ever. I was terrified of you in high school precisely because of how strong you always were. The fact that you had one moment of weakness doesn't mean you were ever really weak. All it means is that you were human."

At this, Dave tentatively ran his hand through Kurt's disheveled hair.

"And, to be honest, knowing this about you…it makes me feel just a little closer to you. Like the distance between us was never quite as enormous as I always feared. Please don't be mad at me because I am grateful to know you weren't always completely perfect."

Kurt gave a slightly hysterical laugh and dropped his gaze to the floor, saying with pointed skepticism as he did so, "I can't believe you ever thought I was perfect."

"God, I'm still scared that you actually are…"

At this, Kurt looked him in the eye again, and he could see Dave was telling the truth.

"How did someone like you end up in the arms of someone like me?" he asked, looking at Kurt as if this whole moment was a precious mirage, likely to dissolve at any second.

David kissed him then, and Kurt felt his arms instantly snake up around the other boy's neck to bring him in closer. The disclosure of so much heady emotion had taken its toll on both of them, and it seemed their bodies were anxious to follow up all those heavy words with some equally weighty deeds. The night, it seemed, was once again, far from over.


	13. At Peace

_**No, I did not abandon this fic! I just was deprived of inspiration for a little while. But it appears to be back, and in good form. Enjoy another chapter of smutty goodness. Will try to update again soon, but making no promises.**_

Their mouths mated hungrily for a long moment. Then Dave did something he had fantasized about for years beforehand. He grabbed Kurt's hips, smoothed his hands over the other boy's butt and pulled up under his thighs.

Kurt understood and hung around David's neck as he locked his legs firmly around his companion's waist. The position felt perfect, like two puzzle pieces cut exactly to match. Kurt rubbed his growing erection against David's and then detached his lips just long enough to whisper "bedroom" against his mouth.

Dave complied, walking toward the room Kurt had emerged from earlier, still holding the other boy as if he weighed nothing whatsoever. Kurt found this effortlessness in being carried very arousing. This sort of thing was something he had never been able to get from his relationship with Blaine.

Although he had liked many things about the other boy, he had never enjoyed how small his ex-boyfriend was compared to him. In Kurt's idealized dreams and fantasies, the men he was with were always larger than him, taller, heavier, hairier, able to pick him up and carry him, needing to lean down to kiss him. That had been Kurt's sexual ideal for as long as such thoughts had been a part of his life. And though he would never rule out a partner because they couldn't fulfill that fantasy, the fact that David could made him just that much more appealing.

David fumbled with Kurt's door handle for a moment and then Kurt felt the large slab of wood give way. They entered the darkened room, and Dave finally felt the need to put Kurt down and break off their marathon kiss. Kurt reluctantly resumed a standing position, backing up slowly with Dave still in tow, until he felt the back of his knees hit the bed. He sat down instantly, and then scooted back until he was half-sitting, half-laying right in the center of the mattress.

Kurt looked up at Dave, who was still standing at the edge of his bed. The boy appeared nervous but he also put Kurt in mind of a predator that was about ready pounce on his prey. The idea sent a jolt of desire through his body and he could not help the words that escaped from his mouth seductively a moment later.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

At that Dave succumbed, descending on Kurt as he was a feast laid out for a starving man. The sheer size and weight of the other boy, as well as the unencumbered way in which he pursued erotic contact, hit all the right sexual buttons in Kurt's brain. Wrapping his long muscular legs around David's hips, Kurt forced their crotches together, rubbing every part of his body against every part of David's body he could manage.

Clearly trying desperately to keep himself under control this time, David slipped his hands under the waist band of Kurt's pants and underwear and massaged the smooth, naked skin of his buttocks. His hands were a little rough and slightly calloused, and the contrast made Kurt sigh with pleasure.

For a moment they simply laid there, enjoying the heady rhythm of the kiss and the caresses. But soon enough it wasn't nearly enough, and Kurt loosed his legs to remove the garments from the lower half of his body. Once Dave understood, he helped Kurt along, tossing the fabric off the bed as soon as the smaller boy was free of it.

"Now you," Kurt commanded quietly, but with urgency.

Dave let Kurt de-pants him, simply kicking the material away once it was around his knees. The two boys kissed again, their erections both standing straight up and rubbing together as their hips bucked wildly against one another.

Soon, Dave began pushing Kurt's thin tank-top up along his body, revealing his naked torso. Without removing the shirt fully, yet, Dave bent his head down and gently pulled one of Kurt's tiny, erect nipples into his mouth. At this the other boy let out a stifled _"guh",_ twisting his head to the side as he let out continuous whimpers of pleasure, his hips continuing to thrust rhythmically the entire time.

Eventually Dave let go the flesh in his mouth and pushed Kurt's top over his head, leaving the boy completely naked in his arms. The two gazed at each other for one long moment, and then kissed again, as if sealing something final. When their mouths released one another, Kurt grabbed the back of Dave's neck with one hand and placed their faces close without touching. Looking his companion directly in the eye, he said simply, "I want you inside me."

Dave nodded and kissed Kurt again slowly. Then, all of a sudden, he roughly and unceremoniously flipped Kurt over so they were both kneeling on the bed, Kurt's butt right up against his crotch. Kurt gasped and then smiled with utter delight. Being manhandled with a bit of roughness was hugely arousing to him, as was the raging erection that was pressing up against his backside.

"In my beside drawer, I have a bottle of lube."

Kurt remained facing down on all fours, listening while Dave rummaged for the necessary accoutrements. Soon enough he heard the bottle snap open and he turned his head to watch as Dave poured a generous amount in his hand rubbed the slick substance all along his huge, hard dick. Kurt thought he might cum from the mere image.

Knowing Dave would not necessarily know what to do, Kurt instructed, "You're going to have to prep me a bit first. Put some lube on your first two fingers, and go in one at a time."

Soon enough Kurt felt Dave's weight and warmth back over the whole of him, and he readied his body to be penetrated. He felt a finger at his entrance and consciously relaxed to allowed it to pass into him. The rings of muscle adapted to one finger, and carefully, Dave then attempted two. It was snug, but not at all uncomfortable.

"Are you ready?" David asked, then.

"Yes, please_"_ Kurt exclaimed, at this point desperate to have the other boy riding him.

Bracing himself with his right arm on the bed, Dave took his left hand and pushed the tip of his penis up against Kurt's tight rear entrance. Kurt's body opened and took in the head, but because his cock was significantly larger than two of his fingers, Dave had to move painfully slowly to penetrate fully.

Grasping Kurt diagonally along his chest with left arm, Dave braced the smaller boy as he let out intermittent gasps from being slowly invaded. Finally, Dave was buried to the hilt. He felt Kurt take one long, deep breath and then the boy turned his neck, looked Dave in the eye and said softly, almost as if it was a dare, _"Fuck me."_

Instantly, as if Kurt had flipped some kind of brutal switch with his words, Dave began thrusting hard and fast without hesitation. The boy was so very tight, and his skin was so very soft, and his moans were so very hot, it felt to David as if he would die of this pleasured agony. Feeling like an animal in heat, he pounded away revealing in the feel of Kurt's smooth, round ass underneath him.

David rode Kurt hard, and Kurt reveled in being taken this way. It was the stuff of his fantasies, fantasies he'd never told anyone about for fear of judgment. David was so big, and strong, and his cock was so hard. This was Kurt's erotic dreams come true – well one of them, anyway – and it was blissful beyond words. Clearly, Kurt conceded, David felt the same way; the fervor with which he was going at their fucking was almost manic.

Indeed, manic was exactly how David felt. Just as the pressure begin to build in his balls, telling him an orgasm was within reach, Kurt suddenly grabbed his right hand, pulled it up from the bed and placed it against his own aroused cock. Realizing what Kurt wanted, Dave took hold of the engorged flesh began jerking it off.

"Oh, fuck _yes_!" Kurt said, moving in sync with David's manual strokes.

The sound of their grunts, moans and exaltations mixed with the reverberating echo of skin smacking against skin incessantly. It was rough, and frantic and animalistic, a drive that eradicated embarrassment or hesitation. Dave did as his body commanded and soon enough he again felt the squeezing sensation in his scrotum that he knew would trigger climax and ejaculation. Riding the feeling up to a pressure point, he gave a few final thrusts before the sensation hit him like a volcanic eruption, showering every nerve ending in his body with sweet, heavenly release.

Letting out a mix of a growl and a shout, David spilled himself into the warm, tight body of his companion, before slowing his thrusts and nearly releasing his hold on Kurt's penis.

"No, don't stop yet," the other boy whispered frantically, reapplying Dave's hand with pressure to his still raging erection.

Wanting to simply collapse, but realizing Kurt was almost there, Dave forced himself to keep stroking. Following on instinct, he kissed and bit at the skin below Kurt's ear before summoning up a proper thank you to the boy who had given him so much pleasure just now.

"God, your ass was so hot and tight, I'll never have a fuck as good as you ever again."

As Dave said this, he slowly pulled out, leaving Kurt's hole to contract just as cum began shooting violently out of his cock. The combination of sensations caused Kurt to cry out with delight; he was shocked by the enormity of it as it wracked his body from the edge of his skin to his very core.

When the tsunami subsided, Kurt collapsed first, Dave almost instantly after. They were covered in sweat, and were both overheated. Yet Dave could not bring himself push away from Kurt, as the boy nestled against him on top of the bed.

With Dave laying fully on his side, Kurt semi-spooned with him, resting against him as he lay partway on his back facing the ceiling. Dave had one arm under Kurt's head, and his other draped over the boy's stomach and just as he was about to succumb to slumber, Kurt mumbled softly, "Don't fall asleep. An hour from now you'll wake up freezing."

Even in his semi-conscious state, Dave knew the boy was right. Giving a small huff, he forced himself up and pulled down the covers on the bed, following Kurt's lead in scrambling underneath them as quickly as possible, so as to return to his descent into dreamland.

At first Dave settled himself just out of Kurt's reach, feeling the other boy might not want his bulky, sweaty self overheating him. But almost instantly Kurt scooted over to him, and rested his head on Dave's chest.

"I like listening to your heart," Kurt murmured sleepily, and Dave could tell the boy was seconds from passing out.

Dave did not have the energy to protest, and doubted he could bring himself to do it, even if he did. Instead he simply bent his right elbow and embraced the body that was already embracing him. And not a moment later, a tiredness like none he had ever know before claimed him. For David had not known, until that moment, what it felt like to be truly at peace.


	14. Banana Pancakes

David woke to the distant sounds of dishes clanging. He shifted slightly, attempting initially to remain fully in the thrall of sleep. However, as his brain became slightly less groggy, it dawned on him that something about this morning was different. Very different. For one thing, he was not in his own bed. The bed he was in was softer, the sheets were more delicate, not to mention the distant sounds that surrounded him were definitely _not_ those of his all-male college dorm.

Suddenly Dave was wide awake, opening his eyes and looking around, the previous night flooding back to him in large, disaggregated chunks. As he sat up and rubbed his eyes, he noticed his head felt a little worse for wear and the two bottles of wine he had consumed with dinner flashed through his memory. As Dave repositioned himself straight up, he noticed he he did not have anything on under the cotton sheets and comforter which remained pulled up on his side of the bed, but were flipped and bunched on the other side. Kurt's side.

Dave eyed the still indented length of Kurt's body in the mattress and rubbed his hand along the imprint. As he did so, he felt a huge flare of arousal wrack his own body. There it was, solid evidence that what he remembered from last night really happened. It had been real, all of it – their hurried, orgasmic encounter on the couch, their impassioned, honest fight, and the full-on, earth-shattering sex that had taken place afterwards, in this very bed.

Dave could feel a blush invade his cheeks as more details returned. His body felt hot all over and he was suddenly desperate to find Kurt so that he could see if last night's events stood any chance of a morning rerun. With that thought in mind, Dave fumbled out of the bed and sought around for his borrowed sweats, eventually retrieving them from a small pile of clothes on the floor. He did not feel as if a shirt was warranted.

The clanging sounds, which had roused him initially, had continued steadily through Dave's gradual awakening and rising. He gathered absently that Kurt must be cooking breakfast and the thought made him smile. David readied himself to face the other boy again, and just when he was about to open the bedroom door he held back for the briefest of moments, letting the butterflies churn and give him pause. He felt obliged to take a moment and feel the weight of this new part of his life opening up, a part which he was entering into with much excitement and happiness.

Grasping the handle, Dave then turned it forcefully and walked back into the open floor plan. As he emerged from the threshold of Kurt's bedroom, he immediately glimpsed the other boy ahead of him at a diagonal, standing in front of his kitchen stove, a spatula in hand. Kurt looked as if he had showered and dressed for the day, his hair perfectly coiffed once again, all the tangled remnants of last nights' escapades combed away. But this did not bother David; all it made him want to do was set about messing the boy's hair up all over again.

When Kurt heard his door open, he immediately looked toward the source of the sound. Almost instantly the two boys made eye-contact, and Kurt smiled widely and warmly.

"I was just about to come and get you," he said, his voice low and bemused as Dave walked towards him. "There's fresh coffee in the pot and I am making banana pancakes."

By this point Dave was standing right next to him, close enough to feel his breath when he spoke.

"It smells amazing" he whispered before taking Kurt's face in his hands and kissing him.

Kurt succumbed gorgeously to the kiss and the unbelievable familiarity of the gesture made Dave feel like they had been doing this with each other since the beginning of time. It was a beautiful feeling. Soon enough, Dave could not help his impulse to grab the boy's hips and rub them against his own. At first Kurt fully complied, responding with the same measure of affection and desire. But just as it seemed like things were getting serious, the smaller boy pulled away reluctantly but firmly, saying, "No. Breakfast first."

Dave gave him one last kiss before complying. However, he would not let go without a commitment from Kurt.

"Fine…as long as you promise sex afterwards."

Kurt seemed almost mesmerized by David's blunt demand, and he responded, with an almost bewildered expression, "I promise."

Just then the sizzling of the griddle in front of him became over powering and Kurt had to hurriedly flip the two pancakes that were now baked through. Walking behind the boy, Dave started to peruse the kitchen. Seeing the freshly made coffee in the pot elicited a new craving within him and he queried his companion, "Coffee mugs?"

"Oh, they're in that cabinet next to the fridge."

David quickly retrieved the cup closest to him, a white, solid bit of ceramic with a title logo that said in a slanting scrawl "Spring Awakening." Dave did not recognize the title, but gathered that it was probably a souvenir from a musical, as seemed to be the case with all the mugs in the house.

He poured himself some coffee and then went in search of the milk. When he opened Kurt's fridge he was greeted with the sight of the most well-stocked, well-organized collection of food he'd ever seen. Clearly Kurt and Rachel were foodies, a discovery which pleased Dave enormously. He was not someone who could be bothered to learn how to make good gourmet food. But he had a deep, abiding love of anyone who could be bothered, especially if he was close enough to them to reap the benefits.

Just as Dave returned the milk to the fridge, he turned to see Kurt taking a huge serving plate of pancakes over to the dining room table.

"Breakfast is served!" he said, with a slightly over the top flourish.

Dave smiled warmly at this and moved to take up one of the two seats which already had a placemat, a plate and silverware laid out in front of it. The whole table, in fact, looked like something out of _Better Homes and Gardens_, accented with fresh flowers, all the dishware matching perfectly, and Dave could not help but be overwhelmed at all the trouble Kurt had clearly gone through.

"This looks beautiful, Kurt. All of it," Dave told him with sincerity, and he could see Kurt blush at the complement.

"Thanks."

They shared a hooded glance then, and subsequently burst into chuckles. Kurt sat down and was just about to spread his napkin over his lap when he jumped up and declared, "Oh, I forgot the syrup!"

As the other boy hurried into the kitchen to retrieve the syrup from the microwave, Dave served himself three pancakes and two strips of bacon from the spread in front of him. It smelled divine and he thought to himself, absently, that all of this seemed a little too good to be true. And perhaps it was. Perhaps he had actually been stabbed to death on the way home last night, and this was, in fact, his own particular corner of heaven. In which case, he mused, he owed his murders a huge thank-you.

Pushing that thought aside, more for its absurdity than its grimness, Dave loaded his pancakes down with butter and syrup and finally took the first bite. It was everything a bite of food could be, and it danced on his tongue, a perfect blend of texture and taste.

"Good?" Kurt asked, a knowing smile on his face as he watched Dave chew the food with a blatantly orgasmic expression.

"Eh, it's alright," Dave responded with affected casualty, not able to contain his teasing smile.

"Shut up, it's better than alright and you know it!"

"Fine, it's fucking amazing, okay?"

"Damn right it's fucking amazing."

The two boys descended into giggles again and the meal progressed in much the same fashion, with affectionate teasing and a great deal of laughter.


End file.
